A Stranger Fate
by ImmaLynx
Summary: The adventure is over, or so I believed. The scars left by the insidious experiments of a madman are deep and my recovery arduous, but with the help of my new friends, I'll do my best to make it through. Still, though the worst ordeal of my life is over, I begin to wonder why, though I am healed, I'm not permitted to leave...Passing Stranger Sequel
1. Guilded Cage

**Sequel to Passing Stranger. Please read that first, unless you enjoy being confused. Have fun, my crazy chickies!**

I pick up the pen once more slowly, and painstakingly shift it through my fingers. One, two, three, back, front, back….I stick out my tongue as my hand struggles with the unfamiliar pattern.

I am able to keep concentration on the task for about thirty seconds before my mind wanders once more, eyes drifting aimlessly around the sterile room. There are no monitors here making excessive beeping noises or whirs, for which I'm extremely grateful. Still, you would think a recovery room would be a bit more bright and cheerful, considering how most patients who are forced to stay here could use some cheering up. But no, it's only sterile and white with a boring white bed and a boring beige couch and boring blue wallpaper...you get the idea. I drop the pen once again and curse under my breath as my hand cramps, fingers clenching and unclenching spasmodically as the muscles in my forearm bulged uncomfortably. The voice of my physical therapy doctor echoes in my mind with reprimand for pushing myself like this, for hours on end, but I brush it aside. After all, she isn't here at the moment, and I refuse to accept that it will take months or even years to train my left hand to be as dexterous as I need it to be.

Because I have a dream, and I can't let go of it...not yet.

Automatically, I try to bring my right hand to massage my left in an effort to relieve the pain of my aching muscles, but jerk as the nerves in my right shoulder fire off in agony.

"Urgh," I pant, entire body clenching tightly as the phantom limb contorts in my mind. Falling back onto my lessons immediately, I take a deep breath, loosening my jaw forcefully and exhaling in a sharp hiss.

 _Imagine a mirror, and move your left arm in place of your right….stretch it out..._

I do just that for several minutes, and eventually am able to relax once again. With a deep sigh, I bend over and pick up the pen with my sore left hand, avoiding looking down to my right. Instead, I gaze out of the window, where the sun shines into my small room.

White reflects brightly, straining my eyes for a moment before they adjust. Ugh. I will never understand why the military decided that white limestone was the perfect material to use for the mass courtyards of Central Command. It reflects the sun so obnoxiously, I would think that every soldier forced to serve here would lose their sight to snow blindness. Still, it's a fantastic view for someone of my background, who would never have gotten close to this place without extreme circumstances.

And now, the one place in the city I thought I would never see has become the one place I just can't get away from.

Three weeks. Three weeks since I screwed up so royally and endangered one of the last people on this planet I would want to hurt. Three weeks since the deal with the devil to save him, and three weeks since I lost, well...I glance down to my right side and just as swiftly look away, still not able to quite look at myself.

I shake my head. Most importantly, it has been three weeks since I arrived at the military hospital for emergency surgery...and they _refuse to let me leave_. No matter what anyone says, I do _not_ need to be here for observation any longer. My...shoulder is healed. I clench my teeth. I do _not_ want to hear any more nonsense about complications or physical therapy or _emotional therapy_ …

Of course, I know they are right. I've lost my...I mean...it's gone... I shake my head. And that right there is part of the problem. I can't even say it in my mind.

It's just...this pace makes me uncomfortable. On edge. I'm in _Central Command_ , there are bluecoats _everywhere_. Why couldn't I be transferred to a regular hospital where my family can visit me every day without having to go through a damn strip search? My eyes narrow in anger at the thought of anyone touching my mum and little sister, as if they could _possibly_ have a weapon or be anything close to dangerous. I scoff at the very idea of my sweet Annalise holding anything more dangerous than a small kitchen knife.

I grumble deep in my chest, slowly bringing my remaining hand up to my neck and answering my own question. I know exactly why they are keeping me here.

An unfamiliar ridge meets the ghosting touch of my finger, still a little paranoid about disturbing it for remembered pain. I close my pale blue eyes, blonde lashes brushing tanned cheeks as I imagine it. A deep trench in the skin around my neck, still dark red after all these weeks, though the doctors say it is completely healed. It is the site where the nefarious device of alchemy to control the will of the state alchemists was embedded, so close to my pulse point that I'm frankly amazed I survived it. There had been creeping red veins along my collarbones and lower jaw, radiating from the forms that had crystallized like a collar around my neck, but they had faded with time. Thank goodness. I'm not a vain man by any means, but the sight of them crawling along my skin had been...horrific.

Despite improvement, however, the remaining scar is still a peculiar sight that I will have to live with for the rest of my life, along with the others who had been inflicted with it. The bottom of the mark has seemed to...harden, almost appearing to be the same material that made up the collar. And that, I think, is one reason the military won't let me leave. If there is any chance that it could still somehow be active….I shudder, not wanting to think of what I could do under that malicious man's control.

But Viktor, disgraced general of Drachma, the one who devised the circle to control alchemists, is dead. My lips twist slightly. I had made sure of that. Flashes of black writhing hands and the general's terrified expression as he was consumed under the darkened sky flickers across my mindscape, and I shake my head, trying to dispel the image. I still haven't been able to talk about what happened that day to anyone, not Edward, and definitely not those damn bluecoats.

A soft knock brings me out of my musings, and my face lights up in delight at who walks through the door.

"Al!" I enthuse with a warm smile as the large child walks through the door, metal boots clanking oddly on the sterile tile. I try to stand to greet him, but in my haste, I lose my rather damaged balance and stumble slightly. I straighten with a self deprecating smile.

"Han, how many times have I told you, you shouldn't get up so quickly." Alphonse Elric's strangely childish voice echoes from the large suit of armor he seems to wear habitually. I never ask about it, but I suspect some kind of accident compels him to hide his body like that. But I've never been one to pry, so I just accept him as he is.

"How can I not be excited," I joke, running my hand through my loose blonde hair. "Your visit is the most exciting thing I have to look forward to these days."

"Your family hasn't come by," he enquires as he takes a seat on the beige couch. I ease myself back onto the windowsill with a deep sigh.

"Not since the first couple of times," I say sadly. "My ma', well, after what happened to my father...And Anna can't come without her, as she is still underaged…"

"Ah," Al says, sympathy thick in his voice. I grimace slightly, as if to say 'what can you do'. "Well, I'm sure they'll release you soon," he says optimistically. "I mean, you're completely healed now, aren't you?"

"Yup," I chirp with a cheer I don't really feel. I gesture to my unbandaged shoulder, covered only with the pinned sleeve of my white button down. "Not even the stitches are left and they say the scars from the gunshot wound should fade within a few years."

"That's great!"

We fall into an uncomfortable silence, both of us knowing full well the real reason I'm still here. I can't help but think it's a bit unfair that I'm still under suspicion, as the collar hadn't worked on me, not in the least. _And you know why that is, don't you_ … I shudder, shaking off the haunting image of _that place._..

Alphonse clears his throat, breaking the tension. "Edward asked me to check up on you, since he knows how stir crazy you must feel. So I brought a game," he says brightly. He lifts a package that I had not noticed before, and my eyes light up.

"You don't know how much I need a distraction, Ally-boy. Thank you, seriously." I stand, cautiously this time, and drag a plastic chair over to the other side of the coffee table that Al placed the board game on.

"Oh, I understand completely. If you are anything like brother, you must be crawling up the walls. He would have broken out ages ago." He mutters the last part under his breath, and I chuckle.

"I think breaking out would be a little difficult for me at this point. Besides that, I'm not quite as adventurous is Eddie is. I'd probably just fall flat on my face and get hauled back." I grab at the box and begin to open it with one hand. Al helpfully places a hand on the cardboard so I can tug at the opening flap. "Thanks," I mumble, slightly embarrassed.

"No problem." He replies without a trace of pity in his voice, and I smile. That's what I like about Al. He never acts as if I am crippled, or an invalid. I speculate that it must come from being a brother to another amputee, and with as much pride as Edward has, Alphonse must have had a lot of practice being supportive without smothering him.

I pull the box open with a happy exclamation and dump out the blocks, immediately stacking them into a tower. I used to love this game as a kid. It was something I played with my sister on stormy nights, when the thunder frightened me into insomnia. She would always grumble and moan, but my little Annalise never turns down a challenge at Jenga.

"This game should help you with your dexterity."

I smile up at him playfully, before deftly stacking all of the blocks with one hand. "You are looking at the second best Jenga champion of my district. Even my left hand could beat you six ways to Sunday."

"Heh," Al snorted, cracking his fingers. "Is that so. Who's the first?" He starts slowly beginning to push a block out of the stack, and I marvel slightly at his own dexterity with those giant gloves he's wearing.

"Anna, of course. Haven't beaten her even once since she turned twelve."

We both share a chuckle before falling silent, concentrating on the game. After a couple rounds, I ask with as much casualness as I can muster, "So...how's Eddie doing?"

"Heh, I still can't believe he lets you call him that," Al says, amused. Then he becomes slightly solemn. "I'm sorry he hasn't been able to visit you this week. They still have him running experiments with the other alchemists you saved."

I grimace slightly at his wording, but know it's a waste of time to insist that I'm no hero. It just makes it worse, as Al seems determined to convince me otherwise. "Meh," I say, quickly covering up the slight hurt I feel at my friend's continued absence. "I know he's busy. It's not every day that a new dangerous form of alchemy that can potentially destroy all of Amestris comes along."

Al huffs lightly at my sarcasm, but doesn't pursue the issue. Instead, he turns to another matter that makes the half smile fall right off my face. "Have you thought about our offer?"

My hand stumbles slightly and the tower of blocks shifts precariously. I freeze, but the tower settles back into position. I let my hand fall slowly into my lap, eyes following until my loose hair half covers my face. I blow at it, annoyed that I no longer have the ability to tie it back.

"You know I can't do that, Al…"

Edward's offer. I'm no fool. I know that my actions have crippled me. I will never be a craftsman and laborer like my father, as my mother had hoped, and I will never be able to work at the newspaper like she does. And–my useless left hand clenches in my lap–I will never be the artist I thought I would become, no matter how many dexterity exercises I perform. But automail...it's so expensive. It costs more than the rent of my mother's apartment does for _three years_. I never even expected to make that kind of superfluous money till I was well into middle age, and that's even after careful saving over my whole life. And the initial cost doesn't even cover the cost of maintenance I would have over the years. I come from a family of the lowest class, my prospects were slim to begin with, but now…

Edward and Alphonse have offered to buy it for me; the surgery, the hardware, therapy, upkeep, all of it. But I said no.

They are already paying for my hospital bills, and I...well, I have my pride. It's silly, I know, but I have never been one to accept charity or pity from anyone, much less boys I had only just met, relatively speaking. Both of them have argued with me until their faces were blue that they owed me, that I had saved Edward's life, that they had no use for the money since they had no home to upkeep, no family to give it to. But I just can't do it.

Some part of me rebels at the idea that Edward owes me any debt at all. If I hadn't interfered, none of this would have even happened. I wouldn't have lured him away from his security, his own _brother_ , because of my somewhat irrational distrust of the military, I wouldn't have been there to be a burden to him in the wilderness, and I wouldn't have gotten myself captured so that he was forced to sacrifice himself for me. It's my own stupid fault that I lost my arm. I _deserve_ it.

A soft touch on my shoulder reminds me that I am not alone, and I look up with a rueful smile. "Han," Alphonse says, but I shake him off.

"It's your turn," I say with false cheer, and Al seems to deflate. He drops the subject, for which I am immensely grateful, and begins to shift a block on the now much more unstable tower.

"You know," he begins conversationally, and I tense slightly. I'm thrown, though, by what he says next. "They would probably let you go sooner if you just told them what happened."

"Oh," I huff, frown pulling at the corner of my thin lips. "I'm starting to regret that open invitation I gave you to visit any time if you are going to keep bringing up unpleasant subjects."

"Ah, sorry...I just–"

I wave him off, already taking back the statement. "No, no, I'm kidding. Of course you're welcome." I crinkle my nose slightly, thinking of the parade of officers who have been bugging me incessantly since the minute I woke up. That spectacled man was particularly insistent, though I minded him less than the others for his friendly nature. Still…

"They aren't all bad, you know," Al continues, as if I hadn't interrupted him.

"You know what they did to my family, Al," I mumble, even though I know it is a weak excuse.

"The actions of one soldier–" he began, lecture mode beginning to edge in his voice, and I smile, raising my hand in surrender. This is an argument we've had before, and one I've thoroughly lost. I am well aware that the soldier that accidently shot and killed my father does not condemn the rest of the military. What Alphonse doesn't understand is that the deep seated distrust that was bred into me since birth went way further than that. And certainly, the abuse of the military police in my area did not seem to disprove any of my feelings as false. But still, I am aware that that isn't the real reason I'm having a hard time relating what happened.

It's the nightmares. They still haunt me, no matter how many weeks have passed. And not only were the images of what happened continuing to plague me, but the complete _insanity_ of the actual events. The transmutation scorched into the earth, witnessing someone's will stripped away from them, feeling the power as the circle was activated...not even mentioning that place that I ended up in, the deal I made or the events following. I shiver, goosebumps raising on my flesh.

It's beyond my comprehension. Growing up, I was never in contact with anything remotely as exotic as alchemy, the practice strictly regimented by the military. I have heard stories of alchemists in cities outside of Central, where their control wasn't as absolute, but this close to Central Command, there was never any chance that one such as me would have come in contact with the science, barring extreme circumstances. And so, my brain just isn't wired to comprehend it.

"Han, you're the only one who remembers what happened…"

I purse my lips. And that's the other thing that's stopping me. Edward, nor any of the alchemists that had been experimented on, could remember the short events leading up to the transmutation, nor anything after. That threw into doubt everything that _I_ remember, as well. What if it was just a figment of my imagination? What if I was insane? The things that I think I saw...if I talk about it, will they put me in the loony bin? Declare me crazy and lock me away forever? An echoing laugh filters through my thoughts, the voice of that strange childlike thing still haunting me, and my lip loses all color as I bite it. I told them all about General Viktor, the thugs we saw, the camp and the effect on the alchemists I observed, but no matter how much they pried, I refused to relate what happened in that hellish circle.

Alphonse remains still as I waver, game long forgotten, and though I can't see his face, his countenance makes me think that maybe he knows what I can't say. Maybe he does. But I just can't take that chance.

I let out a long breath and slump into my chair. "I'm sorry, Al, but I'm tired," I whisper, and for a long moment, he remains silent. I avoid his gaze.

Eventually, though, he stands with a clank of metal and a sigh. I hear him pause at the door, but don't move.

"We are here for you, you know that, right?"

A smile tugs at my lips and I finally open my eyes, shoulders relaxing as I regard him. Affection wells up in my tired heart at his compassion, and I grin reassuringly. "I know, Al. Thanks."

"...I'll be sure to send brother, later. He'll bring those pastries you like." And with that, Alphonse exits the room, closing the door softly behind him.

For a moment, I listen to his clanking footsteps retreating down the hall before I slump down as far as the chair will allow, smile sliding off my face. Slowly, I lift my left hand and pull one more block off of the leaning tower. It wavers, but doesn't fall. I can't help but feel a strange camaraderie with the unstable stack; as if someone pulled the wrong block, I would come crashing down. Though I will never be able to bring myself to regret what happened, as least as far as helping Edward and those alchemists goes, the grief, confusion and pressure I'm under makes me feel dangerously unbalanced. I know I'll have to give in eventually if I ever want my situation to change, but there is this lingering fear that this somehow isn't over. Maybe it is just my paranoia talking, but the way some of those bluecoats look at me...as if I'm some kind of animal to be tested on, or that I'm outright dangerous...I stare out the window, feeling distinctly trapped. I can only hope that once I give in, the end result will be my freedom.

I drop my hand. In front of me, the tower wavers then collapses in a shower of blocks, unheeded. I merely pick up the pen I had been playing with before and begin my exercises once more. Soon all of this will be over, and I can go back home. Then...well, then I would just figure it out, like I always have. I close my eyes and think of my sister, my mum and my loft, places I feel most comfortable, and smile. Soon.

–_–_–_–

 **AN:**

 **Ah, yes, that sets it up nicely, I think. I know, and believe me, I am the last person who expected me to write a sequel so soon, but a simple observation from a reviewer gave me an** _ **idea**_ **. And you all know how dangerous those are.**

 **Thanks for sending me your love! I'm off to work on the next chapter of Subsoul! lalalalalalaaaaaa~**


	2. Promises, Promises

An hour after Alphonse has left me, and I'm once again losing my mind. Why did I send him away! Why!

Oh, right, because of my stupid pride. I really need to work on that.

I'm sitting sullenly in the hospital garden now, the space as dreadfully dull as inside. It is literally the only other place I am able to be while in recovery, and only with an escort. With some effort, I ignore the blank-faced officer standing against the wall some yards away from me. I don't envy him this job. Watching some kid like me for days had to feel like a poor way to spend work hours. I try to shut him out and focus on my surroundings instead. Boring, temperate plants line more white walkways, looking half dead and under-watered. A stone bench is the only place to sit, and it's quite uncomfortable as well. Who in their right mind would think this was a relaxing place to be for bedridden patients? Well, at least the garden had the benefit of having the sun warming my face. I close my eyes and lean back carefully on the stone bench, being cautious of my still sore wound, and just absorb as much of the outdoor air as I can.

It's strange. I never thought much about the outdoors until the option to go where I please was withheld from me. Typically, I'm not outside much to begin with, what with my penchant for staying indoors and drawing, or being in school for half the day. But I always loved hanging out with my friends to play soccer and the like, tanning my skin at least somewhat. With a pang, I realize that I probably won't be taking my shirt off in front of anyone any time soon...if ever.

A group of passing bluecoats startles me out of my thoughts. They walk past the courtyard and enter the building without incident, chatting and laughing together. Not a one even a glances in my direction, but I can't help but tense. Man, I will never get used to that...I was just too used to dodging the military police to be comfortable here. I check a clock I can see through the window in the building across from me and realize I've been spacing out for a half-hour. I hum sullenly, wishing Alphonse would send Eddie my way like he said he would. I could really use a friend right now, and blank-face over in the corner does not count.

As if someone had taken the very thoughts from my head and answered, a man bursts from the door behind me and greets me heartilly.

"Han, there you are! I've been looking all over for you!"

A tall gentleman with dark black hair and square spectacles waves with a little too much energy as he walks towards me. He wears the same uniform as the others in the base, but his has two stars on the shoulder, an officer of higher rank. Lieutenant colonel, I think he said, not that that means much to me.

I refrain from rolling my eyes, but can't help but smirk a bit in spite of myself as he sits beside me on the hard bench. "Hello, Mr. Hughes," I greet in amused exhasperation. "I can't imagine it was too hard to find me considering I only have two places I'm allowed to be."

"Well, no," he says with a grin, "but that doesn't mean I didn't thoroughly search your room before coming here!"

This pulls a small laugh out of me, and his smile only widens. I have to hand it to him, out of all of the military types who have been 'checking' on me since I woke, he had to be my favorite. Or rather, the one who put me most at ease.

"What can I do for you, sir?" I smile slightly, staring into the dull scenery.

"What, can't I just visit you without needing something?" he says with false hurt. I just give him a look. Every time he has visited me has been to see if I would reveal any more about what happened those weeks ago. I'm no fool. He's the head of Investigations, said so himself. It's his job. Despite his friendly demeanor, I can't help but feel that maybe he is only acting this way to get into my confidence.

But even if he is, I still enjoy his company, despite any misgivings. He's one of the only friendly faces I have been able to see of late.

"Alright, alright. But before we get to business, you just have to see this picture of my little Elicia! Yesterday she was wearing mommy's hat!"

This time, I can't hold back the eye roll as Hughes pulls out one of his ever present pictures and holds it in front of me with the utmost excitement. This, right here, is why I can't help but like the guy. He's a complete nut for his daughter and wife. I smile ruefully to myself as I consider how single minded I had been about the military. That was before I met people like Eddie and Mr. Hughes, both so decent and kind. It makes me feel that I had made the right choice in saving those alchemists, despite my current predicament.

Obligingly, I take the small photo and listen as he rants about his family. I have to admit, the little girl is quite cute with her blonde pigtails. She kind of reminds me of how Anna used to look…

Eventually, Hughes' mania runs dry and he takes the picture back with one last absurd kiss to the paper. "So," he begins as he tucks the little square away, and I can't help but tense slightly, guard up. "Am I going to have any luck today?"

"I…" I struggle with myself, Al's words fresh in my mind. He is completely right, of course. I won't be released until I talk. He knows it, Hughe's knows it, and I'm starting to understand this as well. There is no more stalling, not if I ever want to get out of this situation. I purse my lips.

Hughes sighs and leans forward, arms resting against his legs and face completely sober. "I don't mean to scare you Han, but I'm starting to get pressure from the higher-ups. They want this case resolved and in order to do that, we need your side of the story." He looks at me seriously, tone persuasive. "I'm sure you've realized by now that we can't release you until you do. If there is any chance what happened could still be a threat to Amestris..."

I nod slowly, brow furrowed. "I know…"

Hughes places a hand gently on my uninjured shoulder. I jump minutely, but do not brush him away. "Talk to me. I saw what happened in that circle, and I know it can't be easy to talk about, but you'll feel better once it's out there. Trust me, I know." He quirks a smile, and my mouth twitches in response.

I look at him consideringly. He seems so sincere, like it's a simple as that. Like what I saw isn't completely out of the realm of sane reality, like I only have to tell him everything for it all to be alright. His voice is so calming, and I almost spill everything, going so far as to open my mouth to do so. But something stops me. Slowly, I bring my only hand up to my neck, lightly touching the ridges there. I stare hard into his eyes. "Can you promise me that if I tell you everything, nothing bad will happen to me? I can go home, no matter what I say?" I have heard too many stories of the military, too many tales of cruelty, injustice and disappearing citizens. I have to know.

Hughes' black eyes flicker to my lingering touch and just as quickly he fixes his gaze back on mine. A frown brings out light wrinkles between his brows. "Han, we are investigating what happened with the collars and we have more than enough alchemists with the mark to make damn sure nothing untoward will happen now that they have been deactivated. If you tell me your side of the story, then I promise I will do everything in my power to have you released. Let me handle the brass." His hand gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

I bite my lip and nod slowly. I have to trust him. I'm so tired of this place, of being trapped here with all these officers breathing down my neck and constantly making me relive what happened. I just want to go home, to see my family, to _heal_. I close my eyes and take the plunge. "Alright."

Hughes' answering smile is radiant, and a small cautious smile of my own answers him. With one last squeeze, he releases my shoulder and leans back. "Wonderful! Why don't we find somewhere more comfortable and–"

"Lieutenant colonel Hughes," a wheedling voice interrupts us, and I jump, snapping my head to the side in surprise at the sudden intrusion. I hadn't even noticed anyone walking up. A rather short, stout man stops before us, his coat buttons straining to contain his girth. His face is as unpleasant as his nasally voice, wide and covered in an insincere, impeccably white smile beneath a well groomed mustache, gray as his thinning hair. Small, beaded eyes stare out underneath a thick brow. "Sorry to interrupt."

Hughes frowns, all traces of levity gone from his expression, and he sits up slightly while still holding his lax position. I stare between the two men, a sinking feeling in my heart at the strange turn in mood. Hughes puts on a cold smile, far distant from the mien he uses with me. "Not at all, Major Krane. I was just having a chat with young Han, here. What can I do for you?"

Krane clears his throat, and I wince a bit at the phlegmy sound. "Ah, you see, it is about Mr. Han, here. I have orders to take him into questioning." He sounds inordinately pleased about the fact, and adrenaline spikes in me in alarm.

I sit up sharply, ignoring the twinge my shoulder gives at the sudden movement. Hughes' hand is back on my arm, holding me in place. I glance at him uncertainly, trying to pull reassurance from his serious expression.

"That won't be necessary, Krane," he responds, tone significantly colder. "Han has already agreed to talk to me."

Krane's smile only gets wider until I believe it will consume his entire face. His tone drips with false sincerity as he seems to apologize. "So sorry, lieutenant colonel, but I'm afraid he is no longer your problem." He brings forward a sheet of paper which he holds between his forefinger and thumb delicately. "I have your new orders from Brigadier General Clemin. All handling and questioning of the _patient_ has been handed over to me."

Suddenly the reassuring hold on my shoulder is gone as Hughes stands and swiftly takes the sheet from the smug man. Gaze flickering across it rapidly, his frown deepens as his eyes widen. "Now wait just a minute, you can't–"

"So sorry, sir," Krane interrupts rudely, all facade of formality gone. "But orders are orders."

As the drama plays out, two more soldiers step out of the building, faces grim. Hughes ignores them in favor of glaring at the shorter man, but I certainly can't. My heart pounds loudly in my ears as they approach slowly, as if trying to corner a startled animal.

"Watch your tone, _major_ ," Hughes snarls, but the lower ranked officer is not cowed, reassured by his superior's protection.

"No disrespect meant, sir," he merely responds, stepping into a salute. "I assure you that the young man will be well taken care of."

"See that he is." Hughes snaps. He turns to me, kneeling down on one knee. I'm biting my lip, nearly to the point of hyperventilation as the officers close in around us. He smiles, but I can see the strain in his brow. "Listen to me, Han. I will clear this up in no time, alright? You don't have to say anything you don't want to." At this point, I'm beginning to feel scared as he is clearly dead serious. What happened to 'nothing bad will happen to me if I talk'? Clearly, things are swiftly moving out of his control. "You need to go with them now, but wait until someone you trust is near before you say anything."

"Ah, actually–" Hughes cuts off the man with a sharp motion and a glare before turning his gaze back to me in dismissal. For the first time, Krane seems to lose his composure, an ugly frown replacing the plastered smile at being ignored.

"I will get this sorted and come for you soon. I promise."

I nod, but don't know if I believe him. He has already broken the promise he just made a few minutes ago…

Hughes stands and turns to Krane once more, expression fierce. He steps into the shorter man's space and whispered words are exchanged, too low for me to hear. But I can see Krane's face pale, expression turning ugly before he salutes once more. Hughes steps away and nods sharply, sweeping a stern gaze over the other soldiers. They straighten in response. "He had better be in the condition I left him, boys. Mind his wounds."

"Yes, sir!"

"Come this way, Mr. Han," Krane finally adresses me, gesturing towards the door to the courtyard, and I struggle to keep the fear out of my face at the obvious command. With one last look at Hughes, the man's face grim but supportive, I stand unsteadily to my feet. It takes me a split second to regain my balance, and I can see the slight smile on Krane's face, as if he is amused. I frown and stand up straighter, walking towards the door without a backwards glance to my 'escort', who fall into place behind me, blocking any chance of going back.

This is not good. Not good, not good, not good….What am I going to do now? Could Hughes still protect me? It didn't look like it. Now I really regret waiting as long as I did…

We reach the door and Krane 'graciously' opens it for me with a mocking smile. I glare. Before I can walk through, a startled voice interrupts my procession.

"Han?" Edward's familiar husky cadence echoes loudly in the courtyard. I look back in surprise, straining to see past my burly guards' wide shoulders. Ed's face is pulled into a fierce frown, frozen in the doorway in surprise. A paper bag is clutched in his hand, as if he had brought treats to share with me. His brow darkens in anger as he catches sight of Major Krane and my half obscured form.

Krane turns, and his wheedling smile is back. "Ah, Major Elric," he says condescendingly, as if the alchemist is beneath his regard. "I was just taking young Mr. Han to–"

"Who the hell are you!? Where are you taking him?" Edward takes a threatening step forward, and I can see Krane begin to sweat, even as he maintains his ground. Brave man. I have seen what Edward is capable of...

"That is of no concern to you." Krane says coldly, smile still fixed in place. "Now, Mr. Han. After you."

"What the–Like hell it isn't! Who do you think you are–"

Hughes steps between us, cutting him off, and I lose sight of my friend. A solid hand appears on my shoulder (the good one, thank goodness), and I am gently but firmly pushed forward. As the door shuts behind us and we begin to walk down the long hallway towards who knows where, I hear Edward's voice raising in alarm and anger, though I can no longer make out what he says.

My eye catches Krane's. He smiles at me unsettlingly and I gulp, facing resolutely forward. Wherever this is going, I just know that it means nothing good for me. I hope beyond hope that Hughes can keep his promise, because this is starting to sound exactly like one of the horror stories I heard so often as a child.

And those never end well.

–_–_–_–

 **AN:**

 **Heh, so I legitimately tried to use a character from the series for this part, but at this point in the fma timeline all of the eligible characters are dead. Sad, because I really wanted to use Basque Grand. That would have been pretty epic. Krane will just have to do. Ah well. Hope ya'll like him anyway.**

 **Is tired. Goodnight!**


	3. Manipulations

I don't like this. Not at all.

My heart pounds rapidly in my chest as we walk, a spike of adrenaline buzzing in my veins with every new turn we take deeper into the heart of Central Command. Krane walks rapidly beside me, a firm hand gripping my shoulder as if to prevent me from making a run for it. As if I could. There're two besides us, large and intimidating soldiers with blank faces that I would never be able to get past. Not without seriously injuring myself.

Krane's clammy hand sends a shiver of foreboding down my spine at his unwanted touch on my person as he guides me like a misbehaving child. Another turn. Then another. As we continue to walk, I notice that there are fewer and fewer people about, and even less that take note of our presence. I have to wonder to myself just how commonplace a sight it is for a young, injured man to be frog marched like a criminal down the halls of Command. I cringe slightly at the implications.

Eventually, we pass into a completely blank hallway, much farther from anywhere I could think I might be rescued. I cast my thoughts about in some desperation. How would anyone know where I am? Anything could be done to me, anything, and not a soul would be able to find me. I glance once more at my detainer and wince at the perpetual pleased expression the man wears. We stop by an unmarked entrance and Krane opens it, pushing aside the heavy door and gesturing into the darkness beyond, giving my shoulder a firm nudge.

For a split second, I freeze as I stare into the complete darkness. My imagination runs away from me as my mind conjures images of torture chambers and dark, dungeon-like cells that one could disappear into and never be heard from again.

An annoyed sigh breaks me out of my rigid stare and I startle slightly. Krane is glaring at me with his dark eyes, but I refuse to budge, no matter how hard he squeezes my shoulder. "Oh for goodness sakes," he grumbles, shoving past me. "I'm not about to torture you, child." He walks a few paces into the room and a light flicks on, revealing the small space. I blink, letting out a subtle breath. Oh. I feel a bit silly.

Or maybe not so silly, I think, as apprehension begins to fill me with dread once again. An average conference room illuminated with fluorescent lights greets me through the open door as I step inside nervously. There are no torture instruments or any such thing, but the windowless and cold room, along with its obscure location, still have me on edge. Krane shuts the door behind me with a soft click, but it might as well have been a clash of thunder for the way I jump.

"My, you are a jumpy one," Krane chuckles, patting my back in a somewhat friendly manner. A spark of static stings my skin, nearly causing me to have a heart attack, but I hold back a flinch. Get ahold of yourself, Han. Hughes wouldn't have let you leave with this man if he thought he was going to torture you. Right?

The older man wanders casually around the small table in the center of the room and sits down at one of the few chairs. He looks at me expectantly from under his thick brows and gestures for me to take a seat as well.

I hesitate for a split second before seating myself in the chair opposite him. Discreetly I glance down at the arms of the chair. Completely normal. Not a restraining device in sight. I relax slightly. Perhaps I'm over reacting...maybe just a little. It also helps to calm my racing heart that the two escorts were left in the hall outside the door, so they aren't intimidating me any more. They are still there, so I can't run or anything, but at least they aren't looming over me like wolves.

"Right," Krane drawls. He places the folder he's been carrying on the table–the same folder he pulled Hughes' orders from–and flips it open. I glance down at it curiously, and immediately pale. Several pictures of me spread out over the table; my portrait from school, a photo of me smiling with a few of my friends, one of me with my family, and one of my unconscious form as it was when they brought me here. My gaze locks on the picture of me with my mother and sister. How...how did they get these photos? I'm fairly certain there is only one copy of this particular photo, and it sits on the dresser in my ma's room. Did they question her…? Krane silently takes in my shocked expression and smiles slowly, as if amused. "No need to be so shocked, my lad. This is merely...preliminary research. You aren't actually important enough for the military to take notice of."

I shake my head slightly. Preliminary research? I squint down at the folder more closely and spot my school records, my address, my interests, and even the name of my father. No, this is not preliminary research; this is a profile of my entire life. I glance up at Krane, who is studying my face with the utmost interest. A shiver rolls down my spine.

"Then why are you keeping me here?" I look away sullenly, trying my best to hold back my alarm. I get the distinct impression that it would be bad news to show too much weakness in front of this suspicious character.

Krane ignores my question and instead picks up a sheet of paper from the file, glancing down at it casually. "Hanson Silas, son of Diane and Argus Silas, brother to an Annalise…" He scans my face carefully, but this time I am able to control my reaction. "It says here that your father was killed in a crossfire between the military police and a gang...most unfortunate…"

I narrow my eyes, not entirely sure where he's going with this. Abruptly he changes the subject.

"You have been here for three weeks under the care of the military hospital staff, is this correct?" I nod slowly. "And in all of that time, you have been repeatedly visited by Investigations to provide your statement in regards to the case of the missing alchemists, is this also correct?" I didn't move this time, but it seems like he no longer needs my input. He drops the paper he is holding and laces his plump gloved fingers together, peering over them at my frozen face.

"Let me cut to the chase, young man. In this room, on this very day, you are going to tell me _exactly_ what happened on the days between the fifth of February to the twentieth of February." His voice becomes exceptionally cold. "You are going to tell me everything, you will answer all of my questions, and you will leave nothing out. Am I understood." The last sentence was more of a demand for obedience than a question, and a bead of sweat rolls down my neck. Though I begin to shake, my lips remain stubbornly sealed, Hughes' final words to me echoing in my mind.

Unperturbed by my silence, Krane stands and begins to walk around the table slowly, setting my teeth on edge. Casually, he picks up a sheet from the file on the desk and holds it in front of him. For several seconds, he is silent. "Your father, Argus Silas...It must have been terribly hard for your family to lose him...and to those who were meant to protect you, no less…" He raises a brow. "Would you say that you hold a grudge for the military because of this incident?"

...What?

"This grudge, which I am sure you no doubt hold...you were so young after all, and I imagine that the incident must have made you so very angry...Angry enough to perhaps...do something about it?" He speaks slowly, as if choosing his words with the utmost care.

"What–" I manage to whisper, but he cuts me off.

"On the date of February the fifth, at approximately oh-seven-hundred, you were seen tailing Major Edward Elric to a small cafe in the West Shopping District while he was on assignment to patrol for clues to the missing alchemists." My face drains of color as what he is saying starts to dawn on me. He continues mercilessly. "A few moments later, as his guard is set to change...such convenient timing, I might add...you were seen pulling young Major Elric into an alleyway, away from the view of the street. Would you say this is so, Mr. Silas?"

"Now hold on a minute–" I croak in protest, but am ignored.

"Mr. Alphonse Elric reported this incident, and upon investigation of that very same alley, enough evidence suggested a struggle transpired, and Edward Elric was declared missing along with a certain young man; a young man we just happen to find in the valley where illegal actions by a government enemy were taking place. Would you say this is correct, Mr. Silas?"

"You–" my voice cracks, "You can't possibly believe that _I_ was the one who kidnapped Edward."

A slow smile spreads over Krane's face and my stomach drops. "And why not?" he says softly, like a snake. "You were stalking him, were you not? You pulled him into the alley, did you not? You lead him right into that valley…"

"No," I choke. "Edward told you what happened–"

"Oh?" He looks back down to the paper in his hand. "According to this, Edward doesn't remember several hours leading up to the event, nor do any of the other alchemists."

"But Hughes–"

"–Did not arrive until after events began to unfold." A loud snap echoes through the room as he slams the documents back onto the table and leans forward, all traces of a smile gone. "Yet you somehow remember, while none of the criminals were detained, either destroyed by the circle or killed by our soldiers. And the collar didn't work on you, did it, Han? How convenient."

"B-but I'm not an alchemist–"

"Aren't you?" He hisses. Krane pulls back abruptly and pulls another sheet from the stack, waving it through the air lightly. "According to several eyewitness reports, you were seen at the edge of the unidentified circle, activating it."

No. No, no, no this is all so wrong. My breaths start to come in short gasps as all of this evidence is laid before me, condemning me inescapably. My shoulder gives a sharp throb and the room spins, blurred by my suddenly inadequate vision. The worst part is that I can see exactly how this conclusion was reached, perfectly follow this line of reasoning. I was the one who pulled Edward into that alleyway, who got him captured. I was the one who used alchemy, no matter how extraordinary the circumstances, and in a way, I _did_ activate that circle. Is this really what the military thinks happened? Is my silence really the cause of this?

Several moments pass between us as Krane lets me absorb everything that he has said. He begins to walk around the table once more, but I'm too shocked to react. "Now Han...all of this can be cleared up, you know. No one _really_ believes you were in league with those criminals…"

I look up nervously. "They don't…?"

He smiles and once more places a frigid hand on my shoulder, the cold digits feeling like an electric shock to my charged system, and my heart skips a beat, shortening my breath. "Of _course_ not," he says gently, and his voice only becomes more insincere–and compelling–by the second. "But you must understand that the evidence is rather...conclusive. We simply had no alternative but to fill in the blanks, as it were. Your silence is making it a _tad_ difficult to find out what really happened…"

I shiver violently as the room seems to drop in temperature and sway, but I'm too focused on his words to notice. His hand bites into my shoulder like ice as he leans forward to look in my eyes. In a sugary sweet tone, he says, "Perhaps we should start over, Mr. Silas. Now, you are going to tell me _exactly_ what happened on the days between the fifth of February to the twentieth of February. After all, we wouldn't want this little misunderstanding to continue, would we?"

Tremors run up and down my body as I can't bring myself to look away from his eyes, head spinning. I know I'm trapped. I would have to tell this man everything. I would have to say why I could use alchemy, everything that I saw, no matter how insane. My eyes flickered over to the stack of evidence on the table, and all of the serious accusations associated. I take a shuddering breath, feeling a steel trap closing about me. The only hope I have left is that the answers Krane is looking for would save me, rather than condemn me further.

Somehow, I doubt it.

With a final breath, I nod in assent, shoulders slumping under his grip. A broad smile covers his features, looking too wide to be natural, and he pats my shoulder twice. This time I flinch, as every time his hand comes in contact with me I feel an electric shock, raising gooseflesh on my skin. "There now," he says, "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

He wanders back to his side of the table and my eyes struggle to track his movement, vision beginning to waver strangely. A ringing begins in my ears and I shake my head slowly in confusion as shivers wrack my entire frame. Just when had it gotten so cold in here…?

"Now then," Krane begins in a strangely slow voice, drawing my attention back to the fore. A predatory glint sparks in his eye. "How about we start from the beginning?"

I shake my head, but the haze doesn't pass. I relax fully back into the uncomfortable plastic chair and as if of its own accord my voice echoes in the small room. "There was this boy who always walked by my apartment…" My vision flickers once, twice, then I know no more.

-o0o-

 _A laugh, cruel and lifeless as the environment around me echoes in the whiteness, but I can't tell where it comes from. I stand alone in this place, so very alone, before a great door I remember vividly. Unlike the last time I saw it, there are no chains to hold it closed, nothing to keep whatever is inside locked away. I feel a terrible pressure in my head, as if something is trying to reach out from the inside. I groan clutch my temple but nothing eases the pain, why does it hurt so bad? An ominous creak echoes in the white and the door before me shudders and cracks open–_

"Don't stand there and tell me that this happened without him noticing!"

Abruptly, I come to to the sound of muffled shouting. Slowly, I open my eyes, head throbbing immediately at the bright white light. For a moment, I believe that I am somehow still in that horrid place, but reason interjects itself. No,I feel much too corporeal, too much pain to be back _there_. For several seconds I clench my teeth, but the discomfort doesn't ease. With a groan, I ignore it and force my eyes to open. A familiar white ceiling greets me, though it is spinning around stubbornly, no matter how I try to focus my vision. With a surge of nausea I realize that I'm back in my thrice accursed hospital room. A piteous sound escapes my throat as another throb surges through my head. What happened…?

"–hunt that bastard down–" Edward's voice reaches me, his tone angry but muffled by the closed door.

"Edward, calm down," another unfamiliar voice commands, but my friend is having none of it.

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

The argument continues, but I can't make out much else. I look around blurrily, realizing that I'm alone in the room, and try to remember how I got here. A hazy conversation, a wide grin and hissing tones flick through my memory...A black gate in the white place, that demon's domain….I shake my head, trying to separate the recurring dream from reality. A file with pictures of me, pictures that should have not been so easy to obtain...a twisted series of events.

My heart sinks as the conversation comes back to me in full and I groan, this time loudly, as I massage my temple with my hand. "Krane…" I growl. What was I thinking? How could I have told that suspicious man everything like that, no matter how dire his supposed evidence was? Hughes told me to wait and I didn't, too scared to keep quiet. Am I really so weak!? I struggle to remember everything I foolishly revealed, but the tail end of that conversation is blurred, as if I dreamed it instead of lived it.

The door slams open with a sharp bang and I flinch badly at the loud noise, letting out a grunt of protest.

"Han!" My friend bursts into the room, red coattails snapping behind him in his haste, and I feel a flush of warmth within me at his presence, despite my current dark mood.

"Hey, Eddie," I croak, suddenly realizing I'm parched. "We really can't keep meeting like this." I smile weakly at his grunt of amusement and spot Al walking into the room at a slightly more sedate pace, though if I am reading him correctly, he is nearly as agitated as his brother. Another bluecoat enters the room, this one unfamiliar, and I frown darkly. It eases a moment later, though, when I recognize Hughes walk in behind the stranger. "What happened to me?" I ask Edward, trying to bring his pinched face into focus.

"That's what I'd like to know," he growls. "Last thing I see of you is that bastard Krane dragging you off somewhere, and the next thing I know you've been brought back to the hospital unconscious and with a dangerously high fever." He glares sharply over at Hughes, whose expression remains grim.

I struggle to sit up and Al hastens to my side, placing a calming hand against my back to guide me against my pillows. I smile at him faintly before turning to Hughes. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hughes. I think...I think I told him everything."

"You think?" The stranger speaks up in a deep tone. I flicker my eyes to him uncertainly, taking in his dark hair and vaguely Xingese features. Black eyes stare back at me, and I shiver, unable to help remembering the man I accidently cut with a knife weeks ago. I shake it off and give Hughes a questioning look.

Hughes nods, gesturing to his companion. "Han, this is Colonel Mustang, Edward's superior. You can trust him."

I frown, taking that statement with a grain of salt. Seeing as how the last person in that uniform I trusted was Hughes, who let me get taken by Krane, I'm understandably having a bit of a hard time believing that. I glance up at Edward, the only person in this crazy place I truly trust, and silently ask his opinion.

My friend glances back at the colonel and makes a face that I can't quite interpret before sighing and muttering, "Yeah, yeah, you can trust him. Probably."

"Gee thanks, Ed," Mustang says in a tone that could only be interpreted as sarcasm. Edward snorts in amusement, but doesn't take back his statement. I look back and forth between them in confusion, noticing the almost animosity between them, but Al's voice distracts me.

"Come on, brother. Yes, Han, you can trust him. Ed is just being obtuse."

"Hey!"

"Now, now boys, this really isn't the time," Hughes interjects longsufferingly before an argument begins. I couldn't help but feel mildly bemused in this situation. He's behaving like a man long used to such antics, and I could see a similar expression on Mustang's face. These four are acting more like family than military rank and file. "Han, what did you mean by you 'think' you told him everything."

My amusement slides away like so many suds on a wet plate. "I say that because I don't really remember everything I said. I was feeling...strange. Like I couldn't focus. It was freezing in there." Hughes and Mustang seem to share a significant look, but I continue before they could comment. "Hughes, he had a file. There were a lot of pictures of me and information–"

"A file you say?" Hughes interrupts, suddenly going rigid. "What was in it?"

I scoff. "Only my entire life's story along with some very convincing evidence that I was somehow responsible for kidnapping Edward in revenge for my dead father." I'm beginning to feel more lucid now, as if a haze is lifting from my person. And with lucidity comes the anger. "How _exactly_ did he get that picture of my family that only has one copy, anyway? Have you people been harassing my mother, telling her I'm a _criminal?_ Is that why she hasn't seen me at all in the past few weeks?!"

"Han, calm down," Al said gently. "I'm sure there's an explanation to all of this...right?" He directs his question to Hughes, who shifts uncomfortably, a deep frown lining his brow. Edward and Mustang are watching on with almost identical expressions of intensity.

Eventually Hughes answers, hand rubbing his chin in agitation. "Yes, we did interview your mother," I let out a sharp hiss, but he continues before I can interrupt, "but it was only to obtain some of your records to create a profile–"

"So you did investigate me!" I shout, a bit beside myself. "You think I'm a criminal too, don't you?" I can't believe this. Oh–yes I can. This is the military, after all. They're all crooks, just like my ma' said!

"Han," Edward interrupts me calmly, placing a warm hand on my arm. I snap my glare to him, but he doesn't look away. Golden eyes stare back, sincere in their concern, and I calm instantly, relaxing back into my pillows.

I glance reluctantly back at Hughes, his face blank, but his lips pinched. "Sorry, I didn't…" I trail off and look away.

"It's standard procedure to do a background check on anyone admitted to this hospital," Mustang interjects bluntly. "You were also remaining stubbornly silent as to any details regarding yourself or the events that took place a few weeks ago. What I don't understand," he says to Hughes and ignoring my abashed look, "Is how Major Krane got ahold of this information."

"Brigadier General Clemin," Hughes says grimly, and the others in the room seem to stiffen around me. "I received orders from him that Han be taken into questioning and all information passed on to Major Krane. It looks like he got ahold of it from my people before I received those orders and could do anything about it."

"He said I was the one who kidnapped Eddie," I repeat, staring down at my hand.

"Did he now?" Mustang frowns and I can feel his eyes boring into my scalp. "Did he say those exact words or did he merely imply?" I frown, shaking my head, but it's as if there is something blocking my memory. "This is important, Han. Remember."

"No...he didn't say that. Just that there were witnesses…" Now that I think about, he really didn't have any evidence of my guilt at all. But still...it sounded so compelling when he was saying all those things.

"Still, it could be dangerous if Clemin bypasses the investigation process. Your silence could be interpreted as a confession of guilt," Hughes says seriously, and I pale.

"This is bullshit!" Edward exclaims, making me jump. "It's over, the ones responsible are dead, the collars are no longer dangerous and there's no more reason to be harassing Han! Besides, you said you told him everything, right Han? Krane or Clemin or _whoever_ has no case!"

Mustang lets out a long, irritated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Edward, how many times do I have to tell you not to be so damn naive?"

"What was that, bastard?!"

"No. Han was right to be cautious," Hughes says, heading off the confrontation. "Regardless of whether he is innocent or not, Han was seen performing alchemy, has a resistance to something that should by all accounts have turned him into a slave, and is the only one that remembers exactly what happened in a high profile crime scene."

My stomach sinks through the floor. When he says it like that, it does sound bad. "What exactly does that mean for me?"

"It means," Mustang said grimly, "that if you had told the truth to Hughes sooner, he might have been able to blow this over. Now that your case has been given over to someone else…"

"This might very well be out of our hands," Hughes finishes.

I swallow thickly. "I think it's worse than that. Because what really happened…" I trail off and fall silent, still not able to properly explain what it is I think I saw, not even sure how I was able to relate it to Krane in the first place.

"You saw it, didn't you…" Edward says softly when I can't bring myself to continue. Every expression in the room is the same, all grim, as if what Edward is implying something they have all been dreading. I can only stare in confusion as Edward's eyes leave mine to flicker between Hughes and Mustang. "The Gate."

"And now Krane knows it." Mustang adds grimly.

And suddenly all four pairs of eyes are on me, gold, red, black and green, all holding the same look that I can't quite interpret, but that sends a shudder of fear down my spine nonetheless.

I can't help but feel, as I stare between the four of them with trepidation, that I've made a grievous mistake in allowing Krane to manipulate me into talking. Once again I'm faced with the consequences of my own foolish decisions, stumbling around in the dark, always blind in this world so much stranger than my own. The only thing I can think, as I curl my only arm around my drawn knees and hide from the insanity of it all, is that whether I like it or not, I've been had.

And the only thing standing in between me and the manipulations of the military are the four in this room, all looking at me as if I have just signed my own death sentence.

-o0o-

 **AN:**

 **Aw, Han, don't be so hard on yourself. This is at least seventy five percent not your fault. I love how that interrogation went. I feel like I'm channeling Anthony Horowitz with this story in general lol.**


	4. Questions Beget Questions

The door closes with a quiet click as the two older men leave the room, leaving me, Edward and Alphonse alone. Several moments pass in silence as I slump against my knees in exhaustion. Even though I've been doing nothing but sitting around and sleeping as of late, I feel as though I've run a hundred miles and fought a hundred wars.

There is no trace of the strange illness that overcame me but the dampness of my clothes and the slight shivers that still wrack my frame. My stringy bangs cling to my closed lashes, but I can't conjure the energy to swipe them away.

"Dammit!" Edward whispers, still staring intently at the door, though Hughes and Mustang have long left. He stands rigid, though his aura vibrates with energy as if he will simply pick me up and run from this place. Shortly after our conversation Hughes promised to try and find out more about the situation, while Mustang just left with a grim expression and a warning to reveal nothing more until they came back. I couldn't help but feel slightly depressed about that comment, knowing that I screwed up royally. Tears of frustration well up in my closed eyes and I struggle not to let them fall.

"Han," Al says gently, placing a hand on my hunched back. "This isn't your fault."

"How can you say that?" I retort immediately, my voice muffled by my legs. "I told him everything, even though my instincts told me not to. I've been fooled."

"No, he took advantage of your illness. I'm sure if you weren't feeling out of sorts, you wouldn't have been so easily manipulated."

His words are only a cold comfort to me. I talked because I was weak. End of story. "I don't even know what came over me," I mumble. "I've never come down with something that fast, and now I feel totally fine. Just tired…"

Alphonse's armor clanks and I glance up at him, but he's staring at Edward who's finally looked away from the door to exchange a serious look with his brother. "You don't think…" Al says, and Edward nods.

"Han, were you given anything to eat or drink while in Krane's custody?" Edward asks, sitting on the edge of my bed and crossing his arms.

"No," I shake my head. Does he think I'm an idiot? I wouldn't touch anything that man gave me with a ten foot pole.

"What about a needle? Did he maybe drug you without you noticing?"

I raise my eyebrow at the blonde, relaxing back into my pillows with a huff. "Eddie, I think I would have noticed if he stuck me with something. Aside from Krane being overly touchy-feely, there were no pinpricks or weird smells or any of that other stuff that happens in stories." I fall silent and furrow my brow, thinking hard. No, there was nothing like that, but…

"What is it?" Al asks, and I look up with a disconcerted frown.

"I just think it's strange. I was feeling perfectly fine talking with Hughes, but the second Krane touched me I began to feel...cold."

"What do you mean, cold?" Edward leans forward with intense regard.

I sigh in frustration and scrub my hair. "I don't know! His hand felt like ice, like electric shocks–" I cut myself off, eyes widening as a certain memory makes itself known: the memory of alchemy flowing through my hands like electricity, burning and freezing through my veins. "I think he was using alchemy on me," I whisper in shock.

Edward places a hand over his mouth in thought, and Alphonse shifts uneasily beside me.

"Some kind of...mind control alchemy?" Alphonse asks, and I shudder in disgust, rubbing lightly at the blood-red mark around my neck. Edward catches the movement and shakes his head, smiling reassuringly.

"No, I don't think so." Edward looks down in thought. "He probably manipulated the chemicals in his body to put him in a suggestive state of mind. The sickness might have just been a side-effect."

"So, you're saying it's like a truth serum," Alphonse pipes in, sounding fascinated.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on! Don't you two go all scientific on me," I interject, panicking slightly. "You're freaking me out! This is a violation of my free-will we're talking about. I thought that stuff was illegal!"

Edward snaps out of his contemplation with a look of surprise. "Sorry, just thinking out loud." His face turns serious. "You are right, truth serums are illegal because of moral and scientific flaws."

"They aren't always accurate," Alphonse continues. "Rather than making someone say the truth, the chemicals put the subject into a suggestive state that might make him admit to anything, regardless of whether it is true or not."

"While this is all very fascinating," I say, lifting my hand in surrender before either of them could get too far into lecture mode, "I just want to know what it means for me."

"It means that he's found a way to manipulate the chemicals in your mind to put you in a suggestive state, which as far as I know is a new method. In other words, it wasn't illegal and there's no way to prove it." Ed summarized.

"Well that's just great," I mutter sarcastically. "At least I feel a bit better about spilling my guts. It wasn't because I was easily manipulated, but because some psycho was mucking about in my head. Lovely." I sigh resignedly. "I'm in a lot of trouble, aren't I?"

"Don't worry," Al says soothingly. "We'll figure this out."

Edward nods, glaring at the door again. "That's right. It's my fault you got involved in this mess, and I'm going to help you get out of it."

I shake my head at that absurd statement before deciding to let it go. I don't really have the energy to argue the point, to be honest. For a moment, the three of us fall into our own thoughts, the only sound in the room the ticking clock and an occasional clank of Al's armor. I look between the two brothers discreetly and smile, warmed that both of them would go so far for my sake. I wonder to myself what it is I've done to deserve such loyal friends after only the short time we've known each other, but I suppose I can't compare this to my normal relationships. After all, life and death situations tend to bring people together in strange ways, as I'm starting to understand.

Loath as I am to interrupt their thoughtful countenances, there is something bugging me, sending unpleasant surges of trepidation through my stomach every time I think of it.

"What is the Gate?" I ask, drawing both of their attention once again. Edward and Alphonse exchange another long look, and though neither of them move, I can clearly see a silent conversation transpiring between them. Briefly I wonder how well two people must know each other to reach that level of communication, especially since Alphonse isn't even showing his face.

Alphonse answers slowly, as if carefully choosing his words. "The 'Gate' is thought to be the source of all alchemical knowledge, and also the passage to God's domain." I quirk my brow and hold back a disbelieving scoff, but don't interrupt. After all, the 'gateway into God's domain' is no more insane than a 'demon's lair', as I had initially labeled it. "There are very few reports, but we do know that alchemists are taken there when a certain forbidden kind of alchemy is performed."

"Human transmutation," Edward says softly, clenching both of his hands on his lap and avoiding my inquisitive eyes. I turn back to Alphonse as he continues.

"Those who are brought to the Gate and manage to survive are given alchemical knowledge equal to the price paid."

"Price?" I ask, bringing my hand up to slowly clutch at my injured shoulder. "That can't be right," I grimace. "That _thing_ stole my arm, and I received no knowledge, just the ability to resist that madman's mind control." I bite my lip as both eyes lock onto me expectantly, and I acknowledge that this is the first time I consciously related what happened. With a deep sigh I slump back into my pillows and resign myself to the fact that I need to relate everything before I will get any answers.

"Ed, what's the last thing you remember?"

"Hijacking the car," Edward answers immediately, leaning forward slightly and scanning my face. I cringe slightly at his intensity. Clearly he's been wanting to know what happened badly. "The next thing I remember is waking up and seeing you kneeling on the ground at the edge of the transmutation circle…"

I swallow hard and take a deep breath, then with hesitation I begin to relate the events after we managed to steal the car and drive down the mountain. As I talk, my tenor is monotone for the most part but wavers every once and awhile before I regain control of my emotions. This time, completely lucid through the conversation, I am forced to relive every moment with disturbing clarity. The only thing that I can't quite relate is my time in before the Gate, as the details are blurred in my memory, as if it had only been a dream. The exact words that were said have escaped me. I only know that a promise was made; I would be able to resist the collar if I destroyed the transmutation circle in exchange. That and the thing I most value about myself...My shoulder gives a dull ache, as if to remind me of the folly of that promise. I had foolishly agreed to that proposal without extracting exactly what would be taken. I shake my head at myself wryly as I finally fall silent, reaching the end of my tale. I have to wonder; would it have made a difference if I knew? I think back through the haze of my memory, the fear and the desperation to save my friend…The image of Edward with blank eyes–eyes that are usually so full of life and energy, but were terrifyingly and heart-achingly _empty_ –flashes through my mind and makes me visibly shudder.

No. It would not have made any difference at all.

Ear piercing silence greets me as I come back out of my thoughts, and I glance up at Alphonse in confusion. I realize with some frustration that I can't tell at all what he is thinking through his mask, and turn to Edward to ask him what is wrong. I freeze and take in a sharp breath. Eddie's golden eyes are muted, shadowed with such a haunted look and something so dangerously close to self loathing that it makes my heart twinge. "Eddie, what's wrong?" I lift my hand as if to touch him, but pull back immediately as he seems to withdraw into himself.

I scramble within my mind, trying to think of something, anything, that would erase that awful look from my friend's face, but before I can utter a single syllable, Edward seems to shake it off himself. His irises return to their vibrant gold and he places a hand on his chin in thought, though his shoulders remain slightly tense.

When both brothers remain silent, I dismiss the unsettling feeling and ask the question I mentioned before. "So why didn't I get alchemical knowledge then?"

"You did," Alphonse says, voice troublingly strained. "You used alchemy without a transmutation circle, which is an ability that can only be gained from passing through the Gate."

I frown in confusion. "You mean, that's not how it usually works? But Edward–" My eyes widen in realization and I gape at the blond across from me. He watches me steadily as I scan his body and then stare into his stoic eyes. Suddenly everything is starting to make a sick sort of sense; Edward's arm and leg, the haunted look he wears whenever I bring up his past. With a gasp, I jerk my gaze to Alphonse, his body completely covered in steel. Or rather...what is left of it. "You've seen it too, haven't you?!" I wince internally as my voice comes out as more of an accusation than I intended, and I get to witness the unpleasant sight of both of the boys flinching as if I struck them. "Ah, I mean…"

"Yes," Alphonse says softly, and it seems as if he will continue, but he falls silent instead, looking to his brother.

Edward's gaze is muddled with grief once more, and he looks away. "Our mother died when we were younger and we tried to bring her back," he says bluntly, though I can hear the pain laced in his voice. I remain silent, and when he finally looks back at me his eyes widen in surprise.

Face softened with compassion and an ache in my heart, I place my hand on his steel shoulder and clench it tightly, feeling the cool metal through his coat. I don't try to apologize or tell them that I understand, because I know there is not a single platitude in this world that could ease the pain of losing someone you love. I know from experience that hearing something like that from a stranger only makes you feel empty inside. Instead I stay silent and remember what it was like when my father passed; how cold and distant my mother became, how silent Annalise fell, and just how very lonely I was. No, I can't condemn them for their choices, because I know that if I had had their knowledge and their talent back then, I would have done anything and everything in my power to reverse what happened, no matter how forbidden. To bring my father back…to see him smile one more time...It must have been an irresistible temptation...

Finally, I pull back. Edward's expression is bemused, as if he can't quite figure me out. I ignore it, as it is the same look he's given me ever since I asked him if he wanted to be friends. "It didn't work, did it?"

Edward inhales and slowly releases it. "No. I lost my leg to the Gate and Alphonse lost his entire body. I sacrificed my arm to bring back his soul…"

I jerk in shock and stare at Alphonse, who gazes back calmly. "Your whole body?! How–" I shake my head and cut myself off, not even able to articulate the insanity of a soul in an empty suit of armor. Al hesitates, as if he is about to respond, but I hold my hand up, suddenly feeling like a complete jerk. "No, it's okay, you don't have to tell me...I'm sorry I made you remember all of those things, Eddie...Al…"

Alphonse chuckles and Edward quirks a smile, much to my relief. "It's okay," Alphonse says, voice lighter than I've heard it in a while. "You're our friend now." Before I can do much more than blush and stutter, he pulls off his helmet and my heart jumps in my chest in surprise. As Ed said, he's completely empty inside, only dark shadows within. His hand moves on its own–without his head!–and points inside to a small circle. "This is a soul seal. It's what binds me to this armor."

"A–ah," I stutter, completely flummoxed as he puts his helmet back on. Edward laughs at my expression and I snap my mouth closed with a crimson blush. These boys manage to completely destroy my understanding of the world with every new thing they reveal, and I have to wonder when I will finally reach my limit and lose all of my sanity in compensation. "Shut up, Eddie," I mutter, which only sets him off again.

"Anyway," I drawl, glaring at the chuckling blonde, "that doesn't explain why I don't remember the knowledge I supposedly gained from the Gate. Honestly, if you asked me to perform alchemy again right now, I don't think I'd be able to even if I still had my other arm. I don't know the first thing about it!"

"You can, you've just forgotten," Alphonse answers. "I didn't remember my trip through the Gate until just recently."

"What? How?"

Edward's face immediately drops, and I wonder which landmine I've stepped on this time, but then he waves his hand in dismissal. "Let's leave that story for another time. Right now we need to think about how we are going to get you out of this mess."

"Right," I say, starting to feel a bit frustrated. "Why does the military care about alchemists who have seen the Gate? What difference does that make?"

The troubled expression on my friend's face only gets more pronounced as he purses his lips. "I–I can't say." And there is something in his eyes, some fear that I can't quite place, that quiets the protest on the tip of my tongue. He's serious. "You just need to know that it's dangerous for you here, and that you _don't_ want to be involved."

"I think I got that much," I say slowly, scanning his face closely. "But I _am_ involved now." When Ed remains silent, anger starts to bubble up within my chest like a hot acid. I am so sick of this, so sick of all the secrets and being left in the dark, never knowing which turn is the wrong one or who to trust. I just want to go home. I don't want to know anything about this dark world I never knew existed, but every time I turn I find that I need to. But _no one is telling me anything_ and it's driving me crazy! "Edward, what are you hiding from me?" I say sharply, but he remains unmoved. "Al?" I demand.

Both brothers share a look over my head and then stand as one. Edward pats my leg lightly before beginning to move to the door. "We'll be back, Han. We need to check on something."

My jaw drops and I scramble to my feet, stumbling slightly in my haste. "Wait a minute, where do you think you're going?!" But they are already through the door. By the time I stumble through the frame they are halfway down the hall. "Hold on!" I try to follow, but a hand grabs me from behind, startling me. I curse my luck as the doctor who has been caring for me these past weeks stares down at me sternly, her painted lips pulled in a disapproving frown.

"And just where do you think you're going, young man? You've already collapsed once today, we don't need a repeat performance."

I stare as Edward gives me a grin and a final wave before disappearing around the corner. I glare balefully at the empty hall as the doctor forces me back into my room, no doubt to poke and prod at me and force me back into bed.

I seethe. If I don't get the answers I'm looking for soon, something's going to break, and it will most likely be me.

-o0o-

For once I'm dreaming, and it's not of the disturbing images I've been plagued with as of late.

 _I'm in my loft, the familiar surroundings of my home settling around me like a warm blanket. Sitting on the floor with an easel in my lap, I paint with sure strokes of my hand, and though the image continually shifts before my eyes, it's always beautiful. There is so much color, and I'm delighted because I've very rarely ever gotten to use colored paints. I don't even wonder why, too content to care. It's nighttime through my window, and my room is lit by soft candle light, though it's exact point is mysterious. A warmth at my back let's me know I'm not alone, and I inhale the sweet scent of my little sister as she rests against me, comforted by her closeness and the familiarity of home. I stare down at the hand that holds my paint brush, the tip covered in crimson paint as it rests against the canvas, and can't help the surge of longing that wells up within me, for I know in my heart that this is a dream that will never again be reality...I let out a deep breath and close my eyes…_

A soft sound in my room wakes me, but I don't move, my eyes remaining restfully shut and conscious pulling slowly out of my dreams. I was moved back to the recovery room shortly after the doctor detained me that afternoon, so I was much more secluded and there were no machines to keep me awake. So what was it that woke me?

I hear it again and force my sleep addled mind to listen closely. A creak sounds through the quiet room from the direction of the window and a soft breeze blows through, carrying with it the scents of the outside world. I inhale and startle immediately into full consciousness.

Someone is in my room.

Now, normally, I would never jump to the worst conclusion possible, but considering the last couple months I've had...Soft footsteps sound in the quiet night, muffled against the tiled floor and I tense, preparing to either jump up and flee or fight for my life. The steps draw closer and I can barely hear it over the pounding of my heart. The only way I'm going to survive this is if I can catch my intruder by surprise, handicapped as I am. Who is it? Am I going to be killed? Drugged again? My mind runs wild as the seconds tick by.

"Han," a voice whispers urgently from the dark and I startle badly before letting out a gusty exhale, heart hammering in my ears. With an irritated sigh I turn my head and open my eyes, taking in the small figure illuminated by the moon.

"Edward," I say sullenly, still miffed about that afternoon and now about him breaking into my room like some crazy person and scaring the wits out of me. "What do you want?"

He moves up to the side of my bed and grabs my arm tightly, giving it a firm tug. I try to protest again but he cuts me off. "We don't have a lot of time." His eyes flash in the meagre light. "We're going to get you out of here."

-o0o-

 **AN:**

 **So, I think it is a good time to point out that I am not using any accurate timeline from either of the animes or the manga. This world is somewhat AU, and I won't tell you exactly how just yet since I don't want to ruin the plot for you, but it's probably not going to be what you are expecting. I just want to head off any confused pms or reviews as you all start to realize that the timeline is a bit warped, so please just trust me. It will all make cohesive sense in the end. I will tell you that as far as the general rules of alchemy go, I am basing it off of the Brotherhood anime.**

 **Thanks everyone for your support! It's so much better than chocolate, and that's really saying something!**


	5. Flight

My friend tugs insistently at my arm and I instinctively sit up at his urgency, sleep still tugging on my mind. I can barely see his face in the moonlight, no more than the glimmer of his eyes or the flash of white teeth.

"Eddie, what the hell? What are you talking about?"

He hisses at me to be quiet. "We don't have a lot of time before the guard changes again. Hurry up!"

"What–"

Instead of answering my muddled questions he merely releases me with a huff and begins to gather my (few) possessions and shove them into a bag. I don't know why he bothers at all, considering they are only borrowed clothes from the hospital. A pair of shoes hitting my chest snaps me out of my musings and I glare, but he's no longer looking in my direction. Instead he stares intently out of the window, shoulders impossibly tense. I get my first good look at his face, illuminated by the moonlight, and a shiver of trepidation slithers down my spine. It's the same expression he always seems to wear right before attempting something stupid.

When I don't move, Edward looks back at me with agitation. "Han, now! We don't have time for this." When I can only stare at him in shock he straightens and stalks over to me, whips the covers from my body and starts to force the shoes on my feet himself.

"Ah! Ed, cut it out!"

"Look," he says urgently. "We have to get you out of here before the Fuhrer finds out that you've seen the Gate. This may be our only chance before–"

"Before what, Edward?" My head is spinning in confusion. What would the Fuhrer himself–the most important man in the _entire country_ –want with me? I'm nobody! Adrenaline burns through my shocked limbs, now fully and completely awake, as Edward stares at me seriously.

"Not here," he commands, and with one last tug, pulls the last shoe on and drags me to my feet towards the window. I follow numbly, stunned, as he leans out, hand firmly on my chest to keep me still.

A few seconds pass in silence before I can hear a familiar clanking three stories below, announcing Alphonse's presence on the ground beneath my hospital window. Edward makes a signal with his hand and then nods, turning towards me once again. "Han," he says seriously, placing both hands on my shoulders so I can't turn away. "I need you to jump."

"What?" I whisper, panicked. "We're three stories high–"

"Han, you have to trust me. Alphonse is waiting below, he'll catch you."

"But–" I'm panicking, heart pounding rapidly, shortening my breath. We're three stories up and Alphonse is made of metal! Hitting him will probably hurt just as badly as hitting the ground. My eyes flicker back and forth, as if looking for a way to escape this crazy plan and run away from this crazy boy when my eyes rest once more on Edward. I pause, breath catching in my throat. He's looking at me expectantly, patiently, as if my trust in him is an absolute given.

Is it?

Sure, we've been through alot together–stalking, kidnapping, landslides, getting lost in the wilderness, getting shot at and enslaved–you name it. And back then it was imperative that we rely on each other or die. Well, at least _I_ would have died, useless as I am. But now we are back in the real world, back in Central. Before all of this, would I have ever trusted anyone enough to just jump out a window on their word? No!

But as I stare at Edward in the dark, his expression resolute, my gaze is brought unwillingly down to the blood-red scar marring his otherwise tanned skin. The crystallized incision identical to my own; the irrefutable proof of the price of the decisions we made together when we had no one but each other to rely on, where he saved me as I saved him. So, now that I'm back from that awful place, do I still trust Edward as I did back then?

I steel my resolve and give the blond a firm nod, placing my hand over his own warm one. His smile is positively radient as he pats me once on the back and gestures towards the window. I grumble to myself, wondering just when this insane boy wrapped me around his little finger, but brush it aside as I step up to the sill and look down.

I whimper in fear as the long drop is laid out before me dizzyingly, but I force myself to calm down. After all, this is nothing compared to the dangerous drops Edward and I faced in the canyon. I shake it off and try to pinpoint Alphonse in the gloom. I spot him a mere second later, standing in the bushes below with his hands held high. Edward crouches behind me and begins whispering instructions rapidly in my ear. I try to take it in as much as I can while adrenaline muddles my thoughts. Edward begins to pull away and place his hands against my back to push me, when I grab him.

"Hey, Eddie, if I die, can you make it sound cooler than...well, this?" I wave my hand in the air vaguely, referencing this entirely absurd situation.

I can practically feel his amused grin burning into the back of my neck. "I'll make it sound better and more heroic than single handedly taking on a foreign general and Truth himself! Now make sure to brace your knees!"

"Wha–ach!" I muffle my scream as Edward shoves me out the window without so much as a warning. Wind rushes past my ears and whips about my loose shirt. The fabric obscures my vision for a split second as I fall, making the experience all the more terrifying as my head rushes. It feels like an eternity, but in reality only a couple of seconds pass before I feel my feet striking something solid. I grunt and bend my knees as Edward said and whatever it is that caught me braces my fall and lowers me down. I panic as I feel myself falling backwards but a hand snakes around my waist to support my back and I come to a stop. Adrenaline sending tingles through my limbs, I scramble to get the fabric out of my face and stare up with wide eyes. Red greet my own blues and I startle as I realize that I'm in the arms of a kneeling Alphonse, his steel face seeming to radiate amusement.

"Are you alright?" he whispers in that strange echo of his, and I nod numbly, allowing him to release me and set me gently on the ground.

"Thank you," I say and stand on shaking legs to look back up at the hospital room. To my surprise, the curtains are drawn firmly shut. I open my mouth to ask Al what Edward thinks he's doing up there when an almost imperceptible blue flash brightens the heavy fabric for a split second. Alphonse puts his hands up once more and in a rustle of cloth Edward leaps out of the window without so much as looking down.

I gasp and jerk forward as if to catch him myself–That crazy kid is trying to get himself killed! Again!–but Alphonse beats me to it. Edward lands perfectly on his brother's hands as if they are a landing pad and Alphonse gracefully brings the boy's small form to the ground. Without missing a beat Edward hops off as if casually walking down a flight of stairs. I gape in complete awe at the graceful maneuver. Just how many times have these two had to jump out of a window? Before I can even utter a single syllable, Edward is grabbing my hand and pulling me forward once again.

I only supply a token protest at the manhandling before I'm stumbling along behind him. I struggle to keep up with the two's graceful strides with my own unbalanced one, still not quite used to running with only one arm, and am quickly out of breath. No surprise, I've been on strict bedrest for weeks. One can't exactly hold onto stamina when he can't move. Still, I manage as we steal through the night through the silent grounds of Central Command. Though I cannot see a single soul around, Edward looks about as if the very demons of Hell were stalking us.

Who knows, maybe they are.

Several minutes of running later we begin to draw near the wall surrounding the compound, and the brothers slow to a halt. Gratefully, I take in great gulps of air as we crouch beside a low row of bushes out of sight of the sentries patrolling the wall above us. I try to stay as quiet as I can, but I just can't seem to get enough oxygen in my lungs. My shoulder throbs in protest at the sudden blood-flow and I grimace, rubbing it gently. Edward is surveying the grounds too intently to notice, but Alphonse looks back at me with concern.

"Are you alright? You look pale," he whispers. He looks down at the hand clutching my shoulder. "Does it still hurt you?"

I shake my head rapidly in denial, though I know I can't exactly hide it. "N-no, I'm fine."

Edward tenses and knocks a light fist against Al's shoulder plate. "Al, we need to go. The guard is changing."

"Wait, Ed. I think Han needs a break."

"No," I protest weakly, but my shoulder has other ideas. I hiss as it gives a particularly sharp throb and this time Edward looks back at me, impatience flashing in his eyes. They soften a second later as he takes in my pale face however, and I look away, ashamed.

"I'm sorry, Han, but we won't get another chance like this. Al, can you carry him?"

I look up in shock as Al nods immediately. "Of course." I open my mouth to protest, but he's already moving towards me, hands outstretched.

I flinch back and he pauses. Eyes wide, I struggle with myself. Him? Carry me? I have legs, I don't need that! I'm perfectly fine, I can take care of myself! My shoulder gives another throb and I clench it tightly, body beginning to tremble in shock. But more than the pain, my pride cries out in protest. I've always been able to care for myself. Ever since my father died _I_ was the man of the family, _I_ was the strong one. Don't get me wrong, my mother was great when she finally pulled out of her depression, but it was still me who supported her and my sister for all of these years. Now...now I can't even run a measly mile without having someone else carry me? Am I really so useless?

But I'm not 'fine' anymore, am I? I don't know if I'll ever be fine again.

"Han, please. Let me help you," Alphonse says gently as Edward looks on. I can't look him in the eye. The pain begins to blur my vision and I relax fully, giving in. My face burns with shame as Alphonse only hesitates for a split second before scooping me up in his arms like an invalid. I grimace as his cold metal bites through my thin clothes but don't complain as we take off once more. Every step he takes as we run swiftly through the entrance of Central Command and into the street beyond sends a spike of agony through my entire body, but I remain stubbornly silent. I merely clutch at my still healing injury and bear it, hoping without hope that this would be over soon.

Ten minutes later, Edward finally slows to a halt, only slightly out of breath as he scans the dark and deserted streets around us, looking for any signs of pursuit. Seeing none, he inhales deeply and lets it out gustily. "I think we've made it. No one has noticed anything, at least for now…"

He glances up at me where I am nestled against Alphonse's chest, but I avoid his eyes. Several seconds pass in silence as I refuse to acknowledge him.

I know I look a mess. At some point in while we ran I began to tremble violently, sweat cooling against my heated skin as I tried desperately to ignore my pain. The skin had healed over my wound, but that does not mean I'm fully healed, as my doctor was wont to continually remind me. I'm paying for all of the movement I've gone through now.

Alphonse and Edward exchange a glance over my head and Edward turns away, back facing the both of us. "I'm going to scout ahead. You two can go slowly now. I think we've passed the danger zone," he says quietly.

My throat clenches and I bite my lip hard as he breaks into a light jog and disappears around the corner. I can't even keep up with him when I'm being carried…I curl into myself tighter, trying desperately to ease my discomfort. The sudden lack of movement helps, but it's been several hours since my last dose of pain medication and there's not much that can be done. Now that I'm out of the hospital I very much doubt there will be any more relieving medications in my future...

After a moment, Alphonse begins walking again, this time slowly. I hold back a whimper, much to my embarrassment. Eventually, my companion sighs. "You're just like Ed, you know…"

I scoff, immediately disagreeing. I've never seen Edward weak, never seen him falter like this. Edward is so strong and I'm...not. Even now he's trying to save me from my own follies.

Alphonse continues as if I had not reacted at all, his voice soft and steady. "You know, I carried him just like this that night we tried to bring our mother back." Slowly, I lift my eyes to look at him, cautious curiosity painted all over my face. "He was so small back then, than my suddenly huge form… I didn't know what to do. My precious brother was injured, broken down and in so much pain. And yet," he pauses and I stare up at him with wide eyes. "And yet all he could do was apologize to me over and over again. For doing this to me. For being weak. I carried him like this to Aunty Pinako's house, not knowing whether he would survive, and all he could do was say 'sorry'."

"Al," I choke. "I'm sorry. You don't have to tell me this…"

"No," Al says sharply, and I flinch. His voice gentles once more. "You need to hear this. Edward didn't just pop up the next day after losing his limbs, determined to get automail and get on with his life. He spent weeks, months mourning for not only his own body, but mine as well. He fell into a deep depression, thinking the failed transmutation and our condition was all _his_ fault, because he was too _weak_." Al's arms tighten around me uncomfortably, but I'm too stunned to care. "He refused any and all help, thinking all that pain was something he deserved…"

My heart pangs, recognizing those same feelings within myself ever since I woke up.

"But eventually he realized that he wasn't only hurting himself by refusing to move on and admit that he needed help. He was also hurting the ones he loves." He looks forward, red eyes piercing in the gloom fall silent, seeming to fall deep into thought.

The words hang between us heavily as he falls silent, and I can only stare in shock, trying to understand what he's saying. _Had_ I been doing that? Pushing everyone away...But I have been, haven't I? It isn't just my pride; I've never been overly prideful to begin with. But ever since my injury–no, ever since we got kidnapped–I've been forced to rely on Edward for everything, even though I've been so accustomed to taking care of myself. I've been stubborn, refusing help from anyone, even refusing the offer of automail, something that could help to return my life to normal. It isn't the money, or some stupid debt owed..it's all because…

Because I feel like I deserve it. Because of my foolish actions, because it's my fault, my fault, _my fault…!_ I clench my eyes tightly shut and shudder at the force of this awful feeling.

"Don't," Alphonse says firmly. "Don't you dare blame yourself. You haven't done anything wrong." I shake my head, but he doesn't let me deny it. "No. You saved my brother's life, Han."

"I'm the one who put him in danger in the first place," I stutter.

"You're wrong," he interrupts. "My brother was acting as bait for a reason. We knew it was dangerous and that he probably would get captured. They were professionals that laid a trap, knowing that he would be there, and they would have found a way to get to him, with or without your help."

My breath hitches in surprise. I had never thought of it that way…

"Ed would have been captured either way, I'm sure of it. I believe that you following him was the best stroke of luck I could have asked for, because if he had gotten captured and you weren't there...there would have been no one to save him from enslavement." I can only stare with wide eyes, my mind struggling to accept his words, and my heart struggling to deny them. He continues on in a gentler tone, seeing the conflict in my face. "He cares about you, Han. I don't know everything that was said and done in that wilderness, but you've become his friend and he'd do anything to protect you. And so would I. You aren't weak, and none of this is your fault. While you recover, let us be your strength."

Alphonse's face blurs and I realize with a jolt that tears have filled my eyes. I try so hard to hold them back, as I've been trying to do for so long, but I _can't_. Not anymore. With a strangled sob I curl into myself and do something I haven't been able to do in long, long time. I lean into Alphonse and let go.

Silent tears streak down my face and I grieve; for Edward and the awful things he's been forced to endure, for his brother who has been through so much, things someone so sweet and kind should never have to experience. And finally I grieve for myself and what I've lost forever, all the pain and fear coming out in great shuddering waves, but equal amounts of relief, Alphonse's words beginning to break down my walls of self doubt and despair. As I withdraw into myself Alphonse continues to walk silently, watching diligently over my trembling form for anything that might harm me in my terribly vulnerable state.

Finally, my tears come to an end and I fall asleep in Alphonse's stoic arms, feeling drained but safe for the first time since I, ironically, saw this very same boy standing in an alleyway…

-o0o-

Once again my consciousness pulls itself from the confines of sleep. I wake slowly by degrees. The first thing I notice is that my head's pounding worse than that one time my friends and I foolishly stole from my mother's liquor cabinet. Would I ever enjoy a natural, not drug or insane exhaustion induced sleep again? The second thing I notice is that I can no longer feel the constant movement of Alphonse's steady stride.

I groan, forcing my eyes to open even as they try to stay stubbornly shut with the grit leftover from my tears. Still, I persevere, even though I want nothing more dearly than to fade into unconsciousness once more. A dingy ceiling greets my blurred vision, lit by the flickering of candlelight from somewhere to my right. With addled thoughts I realize that the ceiling I'm looking at is much too low and filthy to be an oft used space. I turn my head sluggishly, seeking the room's only source of light and startle as I realize I'm not alone. I relax immediately, however, as I recognize Edward sitting beside the small candle and staring into it stoically. For a moment, I only stare, remembering Alphonse's words. So...Eddie had been through all of this before, had felt exactly what I have been feeling. It's a startling realization, as I can't even imagine him faltering for anything, but at the same time...it gives me hope. It makes me feel that maybe...if he could come out of that even stronger than before, then maybe I can as well.

"Eddie," I rasp, finally breaking the silence and drawing my friend's attention, and even the small sound makes my head pound harder. "Where's Al?"

"He'll be back in minute," Edward grumbles, not tearing his gaze from the flickering light. "He's securing this building before you and I take a rest."

I blink slowly and with some effort, sit up. My shoulder and back twinge sharply and I hiss as my head decides to match it with its own protest. "Where are we?" I groan.

"You should lay back down," Edward answers instead. "You have a fever."

I chuckle weakly. "And whose fault is that, I wonder?"

Ed seems to shrink in on himself, drawing his arms tighter around his bent leg. "I'm sorry. I had to get you out of there…If there had been another way..."

I sigh deeply and shake my head, the room spinning stubbornly. "Don't apologize, Eddie. I'm joking, not blaming you."

He scans my face dubiously before turning away sharply. I frown in confusion and bring a hand up to my face, feeling the salty remains of tear tracks. With a blush I scrub them away, deciding that if he isn't going to bring it up, then neither will I. Still, I can't help but smile slightly, feeling as if at least one worry has been lifted from my shoulders.

For a good ten minutes we sit in silence, I trying to get my bearings and Edward sulking. Eventually, I ask again; "Where are we?"

"In an abandoned apartment building near the south edge of Central," he says before falling silent once more.

I huff. "Are you going to tell me why we are running like thieves in the night instead of waiting on Mr. Hughes like he told us to? I thought you trusted him and that Mustang guy."

"I do," Edward says immediately. "I just don't think they can do anything about your situation right now. Not since…" He trails off again and my annoyance from yesterday begins to resurface again. I trust Edward and Alphonse, I truly do, but if I'm going to go any further with them, then I need some answers.

Before I can get properly angry Alphonse's voice startles the both of us as he walks through the dark doorway on the far side of the room. "Brother, we are going to have to tell him eventually."

"No, we don't," Ed retorts immediately. "The less he knows, the safer he'll be."

"I find that seriously hard to believe," I interject, tone dark. "If anything, not knowing will drive me crazy and I'll _still_ get manipulated by the military, I just won't know _why_."

Edward looks between the two of us, an almost trapped expression on his face, before letting out a gusty sigh of defeat. "Fine, but don't blame me if you don't like the answers." He falls stubbornly silent and crosses his arms, so I look to Alphonse expectantly.

"Ah, where to start," he mutters to himself, sitting down at my side. "I guess I can start with our own story…well, you already know about our failed transmutation…" I nod. "While we were recovering, a man stopped by our house; Colonel Mustang."

"Is that the same man I met yesterday?" I ask, just to be sure.

"Yes. He seemed impressed that we were able to perform such complex alchemy at such a young age."

"Wait, hold on a second," I say, holding up a hand. "Just so I'm on the same page, exactly how complex is this alchemy?"

"Bio-alchemy, and by extension, human transmutation, is considered one of the most intricate and dangerous sciences out there. There has never been a successful human transmutation recorded in Amestrian history."

I tilt my head, rolling that thought around. "So what makes it so dangerous?"

Al mirrors my pose. "Ah, well…"

"It's so dangerous," Ed jumps in when Al seems stumped, "because there is no way to quantify the equivalent value of the human soul. When the law of Equivalent Exchange is broken, the transmutation fails and the difference is consumed by the Gate."

An image of the Gate and a vacant smile pops up in my mind and I shudder, waving my hand as if to physically drive the memory away. "The law of Equivalent Exchange…?" I mumble, confused.

Alphonse seems to slump and Edward face palms, leaving me to blink in confusion. "You really don't know anything do you?" Edward groans into his hand.

I flare of irritation licks at my tongue and I snap, "No, mister genius, I don't. So sorry that I'm such an idiot when it comes to alchemy, but I bet you don't know the Rule of Thirds or the common psychological reactions to certain shades of red–"

"Okay, okay," Edward chuckles, holding his hands up in surrender. "I know you're not an idiot! It's just that you've been through the Gate and accomplished more than most alchemists have in a lifetime, and yet you don't even know the basic rules of the science…"

I puff up my cheeks and try to cross my arms, only to realize that I can't indulge in such a petulant gesture at the moment. I drop my arm into my lap in irritation. "Well _excuse_ me for not remembering my trip through the Gate! I guess you're just going to have to indulge this idiot and _educate_ me!"

Edward only cackles louder at my tantrum and I'm appalled to hear Al join in too. "Aaaaaal~" I whine and then grunt in protest as Edward ruffles my hair roughly, sending soft tufts of blond sticking up in every direction. I blink in surprise as he pulls back, expression of mirth painted all over his face. He only laughs harder at my bewilderment.

"Quit being cute, newbie."

"What!" I protest immediately with an embarrassed flush. "Don't call me cute! I'm taller than you!"

Alphonse lets out a loud guffaw as Edward's smile drops. Amusement bubbles up in me as well as I witness the rising anger in my smaller friends eyes. "Yeah, that's right, I said it! Shorty!"

"Aaaarh!" Edward pounces and scrubs at my hair roughly again, but I can only laugh and provide weak protests as Alphonse chuckles above us. "You're younger than me damnit! How did you get so tall in the first place?!"

"Brother," Alphonse chuckles and pulls Edward off of my laughing form with his large steel arms. "Try not to hurt him further, okay?"

Edward stills in his brother's grip with a disgruntled frown and crosses his arms. "Don't get too cocky, kid," he says sullenly as I sit up, trying to reorganize the mess that is my hair.

"Yeah, sure, Eddie, whatever you say."

Edward grunts and waves off Al's hands before settling himself once more on the other side of the candle. "Whatever. We don't have time to explain the entire science to you tonight, and you are definitely too tired to hear the rest of the story right now." I frown, but can't refute the truth of his words. I'm about to drop. "Get a couple hours of sleep. You can hear the rest once we are safely out of the city."

My expression freezes, hand stilling halfway through my tangled hair. I might be tired, but I'm fairly certain that I'm having no trouble hearing. "What...did you say?" I whisper, and though Alphonse seems to regard me with sudden worry, Edward continues as if I hadn't spoken.

"We have to get the very first train. I'm sure that no one will discover my ruse until at least dawn, so we still have time to...Han? What is it?"

Safely out of the city; as in, we're leaving Central?! Now, I know that I've had basically no time to consider exactly what is happening since I got spirited away in the dead of night, so I'm not sure what I was expecting, but _leaving Central?!_ Leave my home, my family?

Seeming to catch on to my sudden panic, Alphonse places a calming hand on my shoulder. "It's just for a little while. We have to get you away from Central Command–"

But I smack his hand off roughly and scramble away, shaking my head slowly back and forth, panic blackening my peripherals. No, no, no, this is insane...I stand and turn my back on the boys' shocked expression, room spinning nauseatingly at my sudden movement. Without a backwards glance and deaf to my companions' surprised shouts I stumble to the door, throw it open, and run.

-o0o-

 **AN:**

 **I know I've said it before, but it's really fun writing from a rather innocent and cowardly point of view. Han does not seem thrilled about leaving the city at all, haha. Who would be, I guess. Well, at least we got some warm fuzzies amidst the drama. I hope you enjoyed!**

 **Thanks everyone for your continued support!**


	6. Complications

I probably make it all of two steps before the room spins around me so badly I can no longer tell up from down. My heart races in my chest in an inexplicable surge of panic, but my body can't keep up with my urge to flee. I fall back. The world warps and a strong pair of arms break my sudden descent as I slump. Frantic talking in my ear distracts me for a second but I ignore it in favor of my racing thoughts.

No, no, I can't leave Central, it's my home. And what about my family? I can't just leave my sister and mother to fend for themselves. What if someone goes after them because they were looking for me? What then? Images of being interrogated by Krane assault me; the pictures of my family he had, my address, their names, all of it a clear threat that I had not had time to process until this moment.

Wait, why did I agree to this crazy adventure in the first place if the _most powerful man in the country_ is after me for whatever insane reason no one is telling me? Eventually the room stops spinning enough for me to get a proper breath in.

"No," I assert over the words I'm still ignoring.

"Han, you don't understand–" Edward says quickly right into my ear, and I realize that I'm practically in his lap while he holds me immobile, a literal iron band across my chest.

"How can I possibly understand, Edward? You won't tell me anything!" I snap back, struggling vainly to remove his hands from around my chest. I hiss as my shoulder and head give a simultaneous throb of protest at the manhandling. Edward's hands release me at my pained noise as if I'm on fire, and I sit up to glare at him.

"Han," Alphonse tries to start, his voice reasonable and calm, but I won't have it.

"No, you two need to listen to me! They had pictures of my home, my family! They had pretty convincing hearsay that I was partly responsible for the whole incident! Did you hear what Hughes said, were you listening at all? What exactly do you think would happen if I suddenly up and left?" I run out of oxygen and force myself to breathe in a stale lungful of air so I wouldn't pass out again.

"No, YOU need to listen," Edward snaps back just as forcefully. "I don't care if they label you a criminal if you leave, because if you stay it will be infinitely worse! I will not allow you to become a pawn of those monsters! After what you saw, after they find out what you can _do_ now, they will not stop until you are in their grasp. If we don't get out now, there may be NOTHING any of us can do about it!" And suddenly he's breathing as hard as I am, expression so fierce that a tingle of fear slithers down my spine.

What is he talking about? What use could anyone possibly have for me? Who are the monsters he speaks of that put so much fear and anger in his eyes? Suddenly I'm not so sure I want to know.

"What about my family, Eddie?" I whisper softly, pleadingly. "What about my little sister? I can't just leave her…"

Edward rocks back slightly, shoulders tightening in indecision as he glances at his own younger sibling. I will him to understand and know that he does because of his love for Alphonse. I can't leave her, I can't. I would sooner cut off my other arm than leave her to the horrors that I can see in Edward's eyes.

"Brother," Alphonse says softly, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Han is right. The second they realize he's gone, they will go after his family. They've done it before…"

Several seconds pass quietly as Edward contemplates our words, a war going on behind his gaze. Finally his shoulders slump in defeat and I relax in relief. "You still need to get out of the city," Edward says warningly, and I purse my lips. "But," he continues before I can protest, "we need to warn your family about what is going on. I can send them to Mustang. He can protect them."

I look down and bite my lip, not sure if I trust the man I only just met, and one of the military to boot. Alphonse gives me a reassuring pat. "You can trust him, Han. Mustang is like…" He trails off, as if at a loss for words.

Edward finishes for him after a heavy pause, speaking in a low voice as if he's not quite sure how to say it out loud. "Like the father we never had."

I pass my gaze between the two boys in thought. Alphonse is as unreadable as always, but Edward looks away with an almost imperceptible blush, as if not quite sure what he's just admitted to. Well, if they say so...it's not like I have a lot of options. "Alright."

With a short nod, Edward stands, pulling his pocket watch out and regarding it. "We have roughly three hours before the sun rises and the first train leaves. You two stay here and–"

"Like hell!" I immediately protest, standing as well. "There's no way Anna or Ma' would trust some random stranger walking through the door and demanding they go into hiding. You need me there."

"You are in no condition to–"

I cut him off and got in his face, using my height to look down at him with as much fire as I am capable of. He immediately bows up to me, defensive. "If it was Alphonse out there in danger and you were hurt, do you think for even _one second_ that that would stop you?" I think of the story Alphonse told me about the night they tried to bring their mother back, how his body had been taken along with Edward's leg, and how Ed still managed to sacrifice his other limb in order to bring his little brother back. How could he ask me to stay behind because of a measly fever and a _healed_ amputation when my family is in danger?

"Enough," Alphonse interjects, placing a hand on both of our chests to separate us a few paces. "Edward, he's coming with us." Eddie opened his mouth to protest but Al beat him to the punch. "No. I know you're worried, but he's right and you know it. And you," he pokes me in the chest, "are going to let me carry you, no arguments. You can't even walk straight right now."

Several tense moments pass as Edward and I glare at each other before he looks away with a deep frown. "Fine."

"Fine," I repeat. I stare at Edward for a few more seconds, somewhat bewildered at his behavior–why is he so determined to protect me?–before moving over to Alphonse without another word and allowing him to lift me into the same position he had carried me in before. This time I don't feel the stab of shame in my chest that had plagued me last time, Alphonse's words comforting enough for me to relax and accept his help.

We leave the bunker and run through the streets of Central once more towards the district where I live. I give out terse directions at every junction, guiding them back to the very spot that this all began.

Twenty minutes later we arrive at the front door of my complex. Alphonse sets me lightly on my feet and takes a look around. "Hey, isn't this…"

"Yup," I say distractedly, wondering how I'm going to get into the building without my key. I had lost it ages ago when I first got kidnapped by the Drachmen. "I used to watch Edward use that crosswalk every morning when he was on patrol." Edward made a choking sound behind me, but I don't bother to look, long having since come to terms with my odd stalkerish behavior back then. "My window is up there."

I point up to the shuttered window at the edge of the building and let out a wordless exclamation. Of course! The fire escape! I haven't used that exit since my Ma' had decided I was quite old enough to go where I please. It goes right beside my bedroom. My excitement drains away though, when I realize a major problem to that particular plan. For one thing, Alphonse definitely wouldn't be able to fit through the window, much less the crawlway. He would have to wait until we could open the front door. For another…

Ladder. Yeah, that might be hard with one arm.

I take a deep breath and turn around. "Um…" Both boys seem to immediately catch on to our perdicament.

"We don't have to go that way, we can just use alchemy to get through the door," Ed reasons with a shrug.

"Brother, I would rather we didn't bring attention to ourselves at the moment. Alchemy isn't exactly subtle," Al says.

"Aaah, we don't have time for this," Ed complains, running a hand through his hair. "I'll go by myself."

"Yeah, because that will go over swimmingly," I retort, eyeing the ladder in trepidation. No, I would have to go up there and explain things. This was not going to be easy...Man I hate heights. Have I mentioned that?

Edward groans in exasperation and takes my hand, dragging me into the alleyway. I follow, bewildered but resigned, at this point used to Edward's manhandling. He stops before the ladder and places both hands and a foot on the rungs in front of him before looking back over his shoulder at me. "Get on."

"..."

I can't help it. A small guffaw escapes my chest. He's kidding...right? I mean–I glance down his shorter frame before meeting his defensive eyes and press my lips together in an attempt to hide my smile. "What, you think I'm not strong enough?" There's an edge to his tone, daring me to comment on his size. I imagine a fuze sizzling at the top of his head and realize that yes, he is completely serious. Oh, good, my pride hasn't been beaten to a pulp quite enough lately.

Swiftly deciding that this is really not worth the argument–no matter how much I _really_ don't want to cling to a small man with only one arm as he climbs three stories into the air on a rickety old ladder– I let out a gusty sigh and figure that this is hardly the stupidest thing I've done at this point. I place one hand on his surprisingly solid flesh shoulder and for a second I just have to hang my head and groan.

"Quit whining and hurry up! You're the one who wanted to come along, so _come along_."

I let out a helpless chuckle as I awkwardly get on his back, swinging my leg around his waist and hoisting the other up with my arm around his neck. Alphonse is giggling behind us and I shoot a bemused grin over my shoulder at him, only to yelp in surprise as the boy I'm attached to surges up effortlessly, as if he didn't have a taller teen on his back clinging to him like a monkey. That only sets Al off more, and I really wish I could glare at him but I'd rather not test my suddenly tenuous balance. I cling tightly and press my face against the back of his neck, stomach deciding that it would rather stay behind on the ground, thank you very much.

"Tch, you might be tall, but you have hardly any weight on you," Ed teases as he smoothly ascends the ladder, muscles effortlessly propelling us upward. For a second I can only marvel at how ridiculously strong he seems to be–I mean, how? What?–but then I figure he does have a pretty dangerous job. Not to mention he's two years older than my sixteen.

"Hey, I resent that! I'm still growing," I grumble, willing myself not to look down and focus instead on the blonde hair I'm hiding my face in. "We can't all be super alchemist soldiers…"

He comes to an abrupt stop and I cling tighter. "I am not a soldier," he says firmly.

"Okay, okay! Just keep going please, I don't want to fall!" Edward's shoulders shake and I realize with a flush that he's laughing at me. I have half a mind to bite him in the shoulder in retaliation, but settle for muttering darkly under my breath. I _really_ don't want him to drop me, after all…

Finally we reach the top. Or I assume so, as he stops moving. I can't bring myself to look. He leans to the side and I hear the creaking slide of my window being opened. With a grunt, he hoists us over the sill and we fall unceremoniously onto the wood planking in my room. I break my death grip around his waist and neck and rub my face comically against the floor. "Ah, solid ground, how I missed you!" I joke, trying to bring my heart rate back to normal.

Edward remains silent save for the quiet huffs of his breath and I glance up at him. He is already on his feet, taking in his surroundings with interest by the light of the street lamp outside.

My room is nothing impressive. In fact, by most standards it would be considered small and cramped, as it is merely an extra room that I discovered in my childhood, one that had supposedly been used to smuggle people in hiding. The only furniture in the small attic like space is a foot locker where I keep my clothes. Art supplies are strewn haphazardly across the floor–mostly charcoal sticks and the occasional pot of ink– and over the wrinkled mess of blankets I use as my bed. I would usually store it away when I'm not using it, but the day I left I had been in somewhat of a hurry. The roof is slanted, and every inch of it is covered in my drawings. Everything is exactly as I left it, I realize with a pang of longing.

Something in particular seems to catch his eye and I follow his gaze across the slanted ceiling of my small bedroom to the many drawings pinned to every surface available. He stares at a drawing of the city, much larger than most of the pictures I have, that renders the view from my window at sunrise.

My heart clenches in my chest painfully and I drop my gaze to the floor. I lever myself up, refusing to look at it. It's the image I had been working on when I first noticed Edward crossing the road. Still unfinished.

And now it will never be finished.

"Han, this is beautiful…" Edward whispers, lifting a hand as if to touch the drawing. I frown, observing the other boy as all of his single minded focus turns to my work, what was once such a huge point of pride for me. If he touches the delicate charcoal strokes, he could damage it, but I can't bring myself to care with the same fierce protectiveness I once felt over my creations. It was all worthless now, after all. I turn my back on him and kick open my foot locker with slightly more force than is necessary, useless left hand clenching at my side. With a heavy sigh I begin to rifle through my clothes for a spare outfit, as I don't know how long I will be away from home. With some effort, I dig a backpack out of the mess and begin stuffing it with some of the essentials I had been forced to live without for over a month, such as my own clothes and toothbrush.

I roughly pull out a pair of pants and an ink spattered brush falls to the floor with a muted clatter. I grunt in annoyance and try to swipe it up with my clumsy hand, but I miss and send it rolling across the floor instead.

Suddenly I'm so _angry_ , tears of impotence stinging the corners of my eyes and throat tightening, making it difficult to draw breath. I bury my face in my hand and hunch over, glaring at the damned piece of wood and horse hair with hatred and frustration. It's one of my favorites, a gift from Anna when I turned fifteen. But at the moment, I hate it and everything it stands for, because without my right hand it's just a useless stick that would only make a mess of any surface I touch. Being home, seeing all of what I was and what I could have been, suddenly it's all just too much. I don't want to look at it, and I most definitely don't want to look at any of the drawings on my walls. That dream is broken, just like my pathetic body.

Edward's boots clunk across the floor and pause beside the displaced paint brush, moving into my fixed vision. I don't react as he slowly picks up the brush and regards it. His gaze locks with mine and I find myself helpless to break it. A multitude of expressions seem to cross his face that I can't interpret before finally settling on a crooked smile. Slowly, he pulls off his white glove to reveal his steel hand, the dark metal glinting slightly in the dull light. I frown, an errant tear slipping down my cheek.

Making sure I hold eye contact, he crouches down beside me. With deliberate movements he places the brush into his artificial right hand and dexterously twirls it through his fingers in the same exact exercise I had been given to train my left, the one I still struggle to perform daily. Then he holds it out for me to take, small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

My jaw drops slightly and I glance down at the brush, then back up to him.

"It's going to be okay," he says, almost casually. "I know it seems bad now, but you can't give up on your dream. Okay?" He grins that big goofy grin he gets when he's feeling awkward, and it pulls a small laugh out of me. I smile back and take the brush from his cold hand and use my sleeve to rub at my eyes. I stare for a moment at the automail appendage that he so rarely reveals before forcing myself to my feet and slinging the pack over my good shoulder.

"Come on, we've wasted enough time in here. Let's go make sure my family is safe and then get out of town."

I lead him to the crawlway and he follows without comment, only letting out a small grunt of protest when we are forced to crouch down low to get through the hidden passage. I reach the end and push against the small door leading to the hallway. I frown.

"What's the holdup?" Edward whispers.

"There's something blocking the door," I whisper back. I push harder and there is a slight movement accompanied with a loud scraping across the floor. I wince at the noise, recognizing the heavy dresser that we keep in the hallway. I have no idea why they would block the entrance to my room, but if they didn't know we were here, they certainly do now. I take in a deep breath. "Anna! Open up!" I hear a startled exclamation from the other side. "Anna? Ma'?"

Silence, and then a muffled "Han?" Anna's familiar voice sends a thrill of warmth through my body, and I can't help the grin that spreads over my face. "Han, what are you doing here, what on earth–"

"Come on, sis, let me in before you start bombarding me with questions."

"Okay, whatever, just hold on a sec. Mom isn't here and this thing is heavy." I throw a worried glance over my shoulder at Edward, but look forward again as heavy scraping and my sister's dainty grunts of exertion filter through the wall. I wince in sympathy, remembering just how heavy that piece of furniture is.

"Urgh, okay, you should be able to get through now."

I swing open the door and cautiously shuffle out into the dark hall. Before I can even stand up straight I am pulled forward roughly and find myself with an armful of little sister. It only takes me one second before I'm melting into her embrace with a relieved sigh, taking in the smell of her favorite shampoo that clings to her long blonde hair. It smells like home.

Just as roughly, she pushes me back and punches me lightly in the chest with her delicate fist. "What the hell, you dork," she reprimands, chocolate eyes sparking with fire and completely ignoring my automatic reproach for her language. "First you run off without any explaination, get your _arm cut off_ with even _less_ explanation," her voice chokes and her eyes flicker to my empty sleeve, "end up in a _military_ hospital where they interrogate us like you're some sort of criminal, _then_ we're told we can't see you anymore because 'It's Classified'–" I exchange a startled expression with Edward, who stands behind me, "–for _three weeks_ Han! And now you appear out of nowhere in the middle of the night? What the hell!"

"Wait, wait, Anna! Slow down! Who told you you couldn't see me anymore?"

She frowns. "No one told us, we got a letter. The next time we tried to go, they blocked us at the entrance."

"Can I see that letter?" Edward speaks up, and Anna jumps with a squeak, clearly not having noticed the other in the room. Peculiarly, Edward is staring up at the ceiling and avoiding both of our eyes, a slight blush on his cheeks. I raise and eyebrow at him before looking at my sister, whose face is just as red, if not more so. My jaw drops.

My little sister is standing in the hall wearing only her underwear and a very loose top that barely covers her chest.

"Holy–" I jerk Anna behind my back and shield her nearly bare body from my friend and glare daggers at Edward, even though it's really not his fault. "What the hell, Anna, put some clothes on!" Ed's face gets darker and he keeps his gaze solidly on the ceiling.

"That's kinda hard to do when my bedroom is over there, you dork," she says, and I can practically hear her eyes roll. "Besides, whose fault do you think this is? It's the middle of the night, I wasn't exactly expecting company." Cool as a cucumber, she shoves by me and stalks past a flustered Edward, the older boy scrambling to get out of her way without looking at her.

Once the door to her bedroom is firmly shut I put my fiercest warning glare on Edward who still can't quite look me in the eye. A few moments later Anna returns in a pair of slacks and a loose button down shirt that does well to conceal her form.

"Oh, quit glaring, brother, and tell me who your handsome friend is." She giggles and waves a hand in front of Edward's face, trying to catch his eye. "It's okay, you can look now."

I relax, protective instincts soothed for the moment (Alert! Man in the same room as my naked sister! Alert!) and gesture between the two. "Eddie, this is Annalise Silas, my little sister. Anna, this is Edward Elric. He's the one...well, he's the one I…" I stumble, wondering what exactly I'm supposed to say. That I followed him and got him kidnapped? That he's the one I wandered through the wilderness with into a war zone that ended in disastrous consequences? He's the one who saved me repeatedly and is protecting me even now? Anna's eyes are narrowing at me in suspicion and I gulp. Man, I should have thought this through. After all, I didn't tell my Ma' or Anna anything...

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, Edward jumps in. "I'm kind of the reason Han is in this mess in the first place. He saw that I was in trouble and well...he saved my life." It's spoken softly, but matter of fact. I draw my eyebrows together, still not really sure if that's an accurate description.

Anna gapes in shock before rounding on me. "You saved his life?" She asks quietly with wide eyes.

"Well, that's not exactly…" I trail off, looking at Edward with a frown. He shakes his head slightly and taps at the pocket watch at his hip, reminding me that we have a very short deadline. I nod and change the subject abruptly. "We don't have a lot of time. Let's see that letter."

She purses her lips before nodding once and pulling a piece of paper from her pocket. She hands it to Edward who reads through it rapidly. "Han," she says, "there's something you need to know. Mom has been trying every day to get into the hospital you were staying in after her shift. She told me she was going again today and...she hasn't come back yet."

Alarm thrilled through me. "What do you mean? She hasn't come back at all? Left a note?"

Anna shook her head. "Nothing. I wanted to go look for her, but she told me to never go near the military without her. And I tried to ask the people at the newspaper but they say she never showed up..."

"Eddie," I whisper, and Edward has a deep frown on his face, which does nothing to settle my racing heart. I grip my sister's shoulder tightly and don't take my eyes off of him. He nods.

"Anna," I say gently, and she looks up at me with these frightened eyes looking for guidance that I'm not entirely sure I can give. I take a shuddering breath. "Pack your things. We're leaving."


	7. Stranger Things

"What?" Anna whispers, wide eyes flicking between mine rapidly. I swallow thickly, hating the fear in her face but knowing there is little I can do at the moment to assuage it. My instincts scream at me to get her out of here, and to do it _now._

"I can't tell you right now, but we need to get out of here as soon as possible. Pack some clothes and meet us back here in three minutes. Go," I shove her lightly in the direction of her room. For a second she doesn't move, shoulders shaking and taking in my rigid stance, one I've never used with her before. Then she hastens to her room without another word.

Eddie steps up behind me and places a hand on my shoulder. I don't look at him. I bite my lip, suddenly realizing just how Edward must have felt when he got me out of the hospital. I'm sure I looked at him just like Anna did to me.

"Do you have anything else you want to grab before we leave?" he whispers.

I start to shake my head no, not really willing to look around the house for perhaps the last time, before I snap my head up. There is one thing, something irreplaceable. I slip past my friend and walk silently down the dark hall into the living room. Sparse as the rest of the house, it only contains a threadbare couch and a couple of shelves around a crumbling fireplace. Still, it is home, and everything in here is cared for with the utmost love. I shuffle to the shelf on the left of the fireplace and run my finger along the worn spines of the books there. My ma' loves to read historical fiction and the small shelf is packed with novels, but there is a specific volume I'm looking for. Not published, but handwritten and worn from being handled by rough, calloused hands.

My father's journal.

I ghost the tips of my fingers along the spines, knowing it is in here but unable to see well by the dim light. Still, I know it by touch and once my hand passes over the warm leather cover, I pry it from its place. Swiftly I pull the pack from my back and tuck the volume inside before donning it once more. I feel a little better, once I have that piece of him with me...

"Will we see her again?" A small voice sounds from behind me and Anna steps to my side. Her gaze is locked on the collection of pictures crammed onto the top of the fireplace. I look as well, and my chest tightens at the images of our small family at various ages.

I swallow hard with a flutter of trepidation as three photos in a row capture my eye; the first of the four of us, Anna and I so young and carefree, and ma' and dad smiling at us warmly. The second of Anna I and ma' two years after father's death, our smiles slightly dimmed, but still whole. And…

And the last of Anna and I, grinning at the camera with our arms around each other. Alone.

I shut my eyes tight and turn away. Please, please, _please_ don't let that be an omen. A small hand brushes against my tightly clenched fist, and I startle, coming out of myself. Anna steps up close to me and coaxes my fingers open, slipping her hand into mine before looking up with gleaming eyes. I exhale sharply and pull her against me. "Of course," I whisper. "Of course we'll see her again. I promise."

Her breath shudders as she rests her forehead against my shoulder. "Right."

We stand that way for several minutes before she pulls away on her own. Anna squares her shoulders, burdened by a small backpack, and squeezes my hand comfortingly before leading us back to the hallway.

Edward is waiting there for us. He glances at our locked hands knowingly but doesn't comment on that or at the tears stains on Anna's face. Instead, he nods once and gestures towards the crawlway.

Anna looks at the small door with distaste. "Why don't we just go through the front entrance?"

"This complex may be being watched," he explains. "Also, we don't want to risk one of the residents seeing us." Anna's brows furrow in worry, but she nods in assent. Only Edward is no longer watching, but peeking out of the window and onto the street.

Anna crouches down and begins to go inside, but I hesitate, watching Edward. He's staring frozen out of the window, shoulders suddenly rigid with tension. A sliver of fear flutters in my stomach. Oh no. I know that look.

Edward blanches and jerks back from the window and against the wall, straining to see out of the window without catching the light on himself, and almost instantaneously I crouch down low and place a warning hand on Anna's back.

"Han, what–" she protests, but I silence her instantly with a sharp shake of my head, heart jumping into my throat.

"Eddie?" I whisper tensely.

He lifts a hand towards me and puts up three fingers, not taking his eyes off the street below. I shudder, hand tightening against my sister's shoulder. They've found us? But how?! Eddie's golden eyes widen and his mouth forms a soundless curse, lifting up two more fingers. He gestures sharply at us and I don't think twice, pushing Annalise in front of me as quickly as I can get her to move before crawling in after her. Edward follows quickly and shuts the door behind him.

"But, the door, they'll see it," Anna protests from in front of me, clearly having caught on to the situation as I had. I just shake my head and push her faster, a telltale flash of blue going off behind me. Anna's eyes widen, but she doesn't say anything more, and the three of us cram into my small room and straighten up.

"How much time do we have?" I breathe to Edward, doing my best to keep my voice steady for my sister's sake.

The alchemist shakes his head, peering out of my small window carefully. "Shit, they're in. I'd say less than a minute before they break into your apartment."

"Who are they? What do they want?" Anna clings tightly to my side, staring fearfully at Edward. I stay silent, wanting to know the same thing.

"They aren't wearing uniforms but they are definitely military. I can't be entirely certain whose orders it is they're following, but I recognize one of them." He looks at me. "He's one of the men who escorted you when you were taken by Krane."

I go cold, shivering as I remember Krane's frigid fingers ghosting across my skin. "How did they know, Eddie? How did they find us?"

"I don't think they did, at least not yet. I think they're here for Anna, or otherwise there wouldn't be a need for subterfuge."

My spine goes rigid and Anna gives a small yelp as my arm tightens around her. Suddenly I am fiercely grateful I persuaded the brothers to stop here first. A strong spike of fury boils my blood at the thought of that creep laying a hand on her.

A loud clunk sounds in the other room, and all of us instinctively crouch down as if about to be struck. More noises follow, but I can barely hear it over the pounding of my heart and Anna's quick breaths.

"What do we do? Do we stay and hope they don't find us or do we make a run for it?"

He leans against the window frame and peers out. "We need to leave, I don't know if that hidden door will stymie them for long, especially if they have an alchemist. Hold on, I can see Al!"

Edward lifts his hand and snaps once, a tiny blue spark lighting the room briefly before extinguishing. We wait in the tense silence for Alphonse to signal back. We can hear voices now, pitched in anger. Anna's breath quickens even more and I fear she may hyperventilate if we don't get somewhere safe soon.

And then he's up, gesturing me forward, and I know exactly what to do this time. I turn to Anna and look into her eyes with as much conviction as I can. "Anna, listen to me. We are going to jump. I need you to do exactly as Edward tells you." Her mouth is opened into a small frightened 'o' but she nods and I give her shoulder a proud squeeze. Anna always was the more brave of us two. I exchange one hard look with Edward who nods back before I look down. Sure enough, Al's down there, hands up and waiting.

It is a testimony to how very much adrenaline is in my blood–and how insane my life has become as of late–that I only hesitate for a split second before jumping out of a window for the second time this night. Anna's startled gasp is the last thing I hear before the rush of the wind and the fear drown out all else.

One more mind staggering drop later, I feel my feet impact Al's waiting hands and he lowers me down, catching me with his other arm when I stumble. But I'm up in an instant, barely able to breathe past the lump of terror in my throat and the pounding of pain in my body, staring at the window where my precious little sister now sits, Edward whispering into her ear much as he did for me the first time. And I know it has to be done, but every protective instinct in my body is going off at once at the sight of her face, pale as death in the moonlight. I lift my arm like Alphonse next to me, as if to promise to catch her as well, even knowing that I can't. Still, that seems like last reassurance she needs, because then she's falling, eyes tightly shut and long hair whipping around her face.

But there is nothing to fear. Alphonse catches her expertly and deposites her gently into my waiting embrace. She trembles as I hold her tightly, before she forcefully pulls back, looking me up and down as if to check me for injuries.

We get no moment to rest, though, as a shout behind us startles me badly. Alphonse whips around, shielding us both. "Not good," he says loudly, all pretense of stealth blown. At the same moment, a loud crash is heard from the window above us, and Edward's curses intertwine with the voices of several others. "Run!"

I barely get a glimpse of several men dressed entirely in black past Alphonse's large frame before a glimmer of a rifle has me grabbing Annalise by the hand and bolting for the alley behind us. She clutches onto me just as tightly until I'm sure my fingers will break, but that miniscule pain is nothing compared to the desperate throb of my entire body at the continued abuse, barely held back by the adrenaline rush.

But it doesn't matter. I have to get my little sister out of here _right now._

Blue light flashes blindingly behind us and my shout is in tandem with Anna's as we stumble through the dark. I take us through the dark alleys, as familiar to me as the back of my hand from the many days and nights spent navigating them avoiding the local military police and lowlifes of this side of town. That knowledge serves me well as more shouting lets us know there are bluecoats in pursuit, not all of them occupied by the Elrics. Blue flashes of light continue to shine behind us, along with a significant amount of noise. The sound of gunfire has Anna letting out a hoarse shout and stumbling. I pause and lift her up frantically, but a shout from the alley in front of us has me freezing in fright. They haven't seen us yet, but It's only a matter of seconds and I just don't know what to do!

No, no this doesn't make sense! All of these men for one girl? No, they have to be after me! Maybe if I hide Anna and draw them away–

Anna jerks me into a side alley as the men get closer. "Don't you even think about it," she growls in a strangled voice as she takes the lead, clearly having understood my hesitation. My eyes widen in surprise as she begins guiding us through the narrow streets as if she knows them. Or maybe not, I think as she seemingly leads us to a street I know is a dead end. Men shout to each other behind us and my back prickles as if anticipating a rain of gunfire.

"Anna, wait," I gasp, "That's a dead end!" I try to tug her back, but she pulls me forcefully. I'm so surprised, I can't overpower her as she leads us down a narrow street to a solid brick wall with a tightly closed steel door at the end. She pulls us down and shoves me behind a dumpster, looking frantically at the alley we came from. One man runs past, then another, and once he is clear, Anna lurches to the door and fumbles with something by the handle, much to my bewilderment. With a strangled sound of victory she tugs on a string and then darts back to my side. I try to ask, but she slaps a hand across my mouth.

Several tense moments pass, my absolute trust in my suddenly crazy sibling the only reason I allow this, before the door cracks open, dim light illuminating the alley. Anna grabs me and drags me to the door, flinging it open and throwing us inside before firmly shutting it behind us. She leans her head against the cold metal, breaths coming in frantic gasps as she calms herself.

But I'm not watching her. I'm frozen stiff, a couple of things coming to my attention in rapid succession, my throbbing head not quite able to comprehend just what it is I am seeing.

The room I find myself in is dimly lit, mood lighting barely illuminating the area but seeming bright in comparison to the dark street we came from. Boxes line the walls on one side and the other seems to be used as some sort of break room, the end of which tapers of into a dark hallway with several doors leading out of sight. A large round table sat in the center of the room, and it is most certainly occupied.

Several women dressed in...well, dressed is a strong word. They are more like barely clothed in outfits that would and do make me blush crimson, more skin than not showing through. Their faces are unfriendly and startled, drinks half lifted to heavily painted lips and cards folded down onto the table. It appears we've interrupted a game. Music jangles merrily from the stairs leading to the second floor, efficiently drowning out the mayhem that must still be going on from outside. My mouth drops open in utter shock because I'm fairly certain that…

My fifteen year old sister has just walked us into a brothel.

But that's the least of my worries, because at our abrupt entrance, one of them jumps to her feet and puts the barrel of a gun right between my eyes.

_–_–_

 **AN: Oh my.** **Hope you guys are as excited for the next chapter as I am. Thanks for your support!**


	8. Madame May I

I can't process any more. Literally can't. My temple throbs and my heart seems to skip several beats in my aching chest, sending violent waves of dizziness through my head. I can't even bring myself to feel afraid as the barrel of a pistol is pressed aggressively against my face because _I just can't take it anymore._

"NO!" Anna screams, lunging forward and knocking the gun aside. It leaves a small scratch on my brow as it leaves, blood trickling down the side of my nose. But I don't move, body going completely numb as shouting registers dully, cotton blocking my ears.

I want to shake it off, I really do for my sister's sake. She's in trouble! A little flicker of alarm goes through me, but it isn't enough to shake the bone deep exhaustion that is literally melting my body. I blink and the room comes back into focus slightly.

Anna pushes the gun away and both her and the woman fall with a shout. The other ladies have gotten up in alarm, shouting at her, at me and at each other, though I can't make out one but of it. One scrambles to her feet and up the stairs, out of sight.

"Get offa me, you little–!" The woman flails beneath my sister, trying to pry the gun free.

"Stop, please, I–" Anna screams as her hair is pulled by another of the girls trying to help her friend, and I step forward in anger, finally spurred into movement.

The room spins and flashes of pain shoot up my knees. I blink again and find myself kneeling on the floor, head so very heavy.

"Han!"

I try to look up, and barely manage to raise my chin enough to peer through blond lashes. A bead of sweat trickles down my cheek and neck. Anna's fighting tooth and nail now and somehow succedes in throwing off the women around her. She wrenches the gun from the flailing woman on the floor and scrambles on her hands and knees to kneel in front of me, holding up the procured weapon in trembling hands. All the women are in hysterics now, backing away and calling for someone, but I can only make out my sister's words. She dares not turn back to look at me, but shouts, "Han! Oh god, please be okay, stay with me!" Anna lets out a whimper of alarm as I slump against her, shivers wracking my limp frame as I struggle to stay conscious.

To the girls she pleads, "Please, stop! I don't want to hurt you, I just–!"

"WHAT is going on here!?" A growling shout howls over the din, and just like that, silence falls. I roll my head against Anna's shoulder to take in the new threat. An intimidating figure stands at the top of the stairs, large width filling the door easily.

 _Thunk._

A large, red heeled foot descends the stairs slowly.

 _Thunk._

Another follows, the sharp heels clunking against the floor so loudly I can almost feel it vibrate in time with my slow heartbeat. Or perhaps it is only loud because of the deafening silence that now reigns down here.

She descends, this tank of a woman, so wide in shoulder that she could easily be mistaken for a man, if not for the generous bosom gracing her stout chest. As she descends her face becomes clear, weathered with age and unmistakably angered, a lit cigarette clenched between white teeth and thin painted lips. I can feel Anna shudder beside me.

She reaches the ground floor and glares around, and suddenly it's as if a flip is switched, the women bursting into motion to huddle around her. The large woman is not tall by any means, but the girls gather close as if she can protect them. I wouldn't doubt it. They all try to speak at once, but she silences them with an irritated wave of her gem encrusted hand and they fall quiet, stepping aside.

Her intense black gaze locks onto Anna, and my little sister whimpers in fear, trembling so bad I'm afraid she might fire the gun in her hands on accident. Carefully, I lift my deadweight arm and place it gently over the weapon, lowering it until it points at the floor. I let out a breath of air and it seems to stick in my throat, preventing me from drawing any in again. My arm drops.

This seems to snap Anna out of her daze and she discards the weapon, nearly tossing it to the side as she turns to grip me by the shoulders. "Han! Brother, please!" She shakes me slightly and it only makes the dizziness worse, stomach roiling in protest. There is a pained sound, like an animal getting kicked, and I realize belatedly that it's coming from me.

 _Thunk...thunk...thunk._ The pulses reverberate through me slowly, and I can almost feel my heart fluttering weakly in my chest. "Tell me, child," the large woman growls as she grows close. Anna tenses. "Why shouldn't I just throw you right out of the door? Or perhaps I should have you arrested for breaking in and assaulting my girls!"

"N-no! I didn't mean to–Sh-she pulled a gun on my brother and I–" Anna begins to hyperventilate and I want so badly to wrap her up in my arm and protect her, but I've got nothing left.

Several moments pass as the stern woman stares at us, Anna no longer able to articulate anything past her rapid breaths. She wraps her arm around me and I slump into her thin frame, keeping a wary eye on the others in the room.

Finally, "Is this true?" Her glare turns towards 'her girls' and they share glances.

"Yes, madame," the tallest says eventually, the one who pulled the gun on me. She swipes a strand of her short blond bob behind her ear and nods shortly. "They entered so abruptly that I might have...panicked."

"I see." The woman crouches down in front of us and we pull back, both of us trying to protect the other, both equally ineffective doing so. A small wisp of smoke curls in between us three as the madame's serious face relaxes just a bit. "Why are you here?"

"We–" Anna gasps, breath slowing down a bit but still strained. "We were being attacked."

"Oh? By who?"

"Um…" Anna looks at me questioningly, not sure how to answer. I hesitate as well, not entirely certain that this 'madame' won't just hand us over if I say it out loud. Soon enough, though, I decide that we don't have much of a choice. Anna knows this place somehow, and she wouldn't take us here if it were dangerous...right? I look to her for answers, but only panic reflects back, though for my wellbeing rather than the woman beside us. I nod slowly.

"Bluecoats," I rasp, another wave of dizziness hitting and sending me falling forward. Anna holds me up with a quiet gasp.

"Hm…" the madame muses before standing abruptly. "Jen," she snaps, "Get these kids into a room."

The tall woman who attacked us first jolts. "But madame–"

"Now, Jen." She snaps. "These are our guests. You are a hostess. Act like one."

"I...yes ma'am." Jen bows her head.

"The rest of you, get back to work! Closing isn't for another two hours."

"Yes, madame," the rest of the girls chorus, scrambling to move out of the volatile woman's way as she makes her way back up the stairs.

We watch warily as the room clears of people, leaving only the two of us and the woman, Jen, left. She glances between us and the stairs, disgruntled, before jabbing a finger in our direction. "Don't move, you two. I'll be right back." And she disappears down the darkened hall, angry curses whispered under her breath.

As soon as she rounds the bend, Anna lets out her held breath, almost a keen, as she cradles my face in her hands. I try to focus, but the world is still spinning and I can barely keep my eyes open. "Oh, Han," she breathes, wiping a hand across my damp brow. "You're burning up! I need to find something to cool you down." She glances around frantically, as if a cooling cloth will suddenly appear beside us.

"Anna," I groan lowly, but she doesn't hear me, too caught up in her panic.

"Are you in pain? Aren't you supposed to be on medicine? Oh, god, I have to get you into bed–"

I shake my head, grunting as that turns out to be a bad idea. "Where are we?" I rasp, "How do you know this place?"

"I...um–"

"What's wrong with him?" Jen asks in mild curiosity as she walks back into the room, shadowed lids half mast and a frown tugging painted lips. "What's that thing around his neck? Oh my god, is he missing an arm?"

"He's sick," Anna snaps, completely ignoring the other questions and hunching over me as if to shield me from the hostess. I mumble weakly in protest, neck twinging.

Jen huffs and rolls her eyes. "Calm down, princess, I'm not going to do anything." As if to counteract that statement, she stalks to the other end of the room and picks up her discarded gun. She hisses. "Damn, girly, did you have to scratch the finish? I just bought this baby." She turns back towards us and Anna nearly growls protectively. I laugh breathily, delirium making this situation seem so–so _ridiculous!_

Anna jerks. "Han, are you– _laughing?_ Unbelievable!"

The tension drains from my body fast and the laugh turns into an empty wheeze as I finally let myself completely relax.

"Han? Han!"

Nope. Not answering. I'm done. The last thing I register before completely blacking out and finally putting an end to this long, tiring, insane night, is that Eddie better have made it out alive. If not, I'm going to kill him.

-o0o-

My body seizes and I choke out a gasp, eyes snapping open, unseeing. "Eddie!"

I jerk forward and immediately groan as my body forces me back down. I fall limp back against the sheets of the bed beneath me. They are soaked through and my stomach roils sickly as I shiver against the moisture on my skin.

My mind is a jumbled mess, locked somewhere between reality and the dreams of recent experiences all mushed together into an in incomprehensible tangle. For a moment, I was back in the wilderness with Edward, shivering in the ice cold temperatures and just trying to stay alive. But after several deep breaths, reality reasserts itself and I calm.

I open my eyes and wince at the bright lamp at my bedside, illuminating the rest of the room with a soft glow that stabs at my brain uncomfortably. I do my best to look around.

I find myself in a small room no bigger than my living room at home, though it seems larger for a wall to ceiling mirror at the foot of the large four poster bed I lie in. The massive piece of furniture seems to take up most of the available space. The area of the wall not plated with mirror is covered in some sort of tacky red velvet, flaking off in places and worn out in others. The bed's covers share the same garish red coloring. The only other furniture in the room is two bed stands, one that holds an ancient looking phone and the other that holds the lamp.

With a shudder, I suddenly remember exactly where I am and shift uncomfortably. A brothel. Which makes this bed….god I hope this thing is clean. With that realization, a thrill of panic sets in. Annalise! Those crazy hostesses! Oh geez, where is she? I struggle to sit up again and this time manage it, though not much else. A wet cloth slips off of my face and falls onto my bare chest and then to the sheets. I stare down numbly at my pale skin, the pink scars that wrap around my side completely exposed in the frigid air. I'm...undressed? An unsettling thought has my hand scrabbling for the covers, and I sigh in relief when I realize that I'm still wearing pants.

Get ahold of yourself, Han, nothing like that would have happened. I grunt out a laugh. I'm a disfigured man, after all. What were the odds of something like that happening? Besides, Anna–

Oh my gosh, Anna! Eddie! Al! Where is everyone? I open my mouth to call out, but only a tortured wheeze escapes and I cough roughly into my hand, throat dry as bone.

 _Thunk, thunk, thunk…_

Footsteps sound in the hall outside and pause before the closed door. I freeze, fright making its way mulishly through my body. I have vague flashes of scantily clad women, a gun to my forehead, and a wisp of smoke obscuring a wide face and trepidation steals my breath.

The door opens abruptly and the madame from before steps inside, filling the frame with her large boddice. "So, you're finally awake," she growls in her aged voice. I tense, but she waves a hand in the air as if to discount my fear. "Relax, kid, I'm not going to do anything."

"Who are you? Where's my sister?" I demand, though it comes out much weaker than I would have liked.

She raises a penciled eyebrow and puffs out a cloud of smoke. I wrinkle my nose as the smell permeates the entire room. "Now, is that any way to treat the woman who took you in from the streets? Hm? Thought not." She leans against the door frame and fixes me with a stern glare. "My name is Madame Christmas. You will call me ma'am or madame. Got it, boy?"

I bristle, but before I can retort, a welcome voice interrupts our stalemate.

"Brother!" Anna, my beautiful, wonderful sister finally appears, slipping past Madame Christmas and outright tackling me to the bed. I fall back with a grunt as she wraps her slim arms around me.

"Anna," I sigh, ignoring the pain in to hug her back as fiercely as my weakened body allows. "You're okay!"

"I'm okay? _I'm_ okay?" She pulls back sharply and glares at me with furious chocolate eyes. "What about you, you big jerk? Where the hell do you get off passing out like that!?" She slaps my in the chest and wince but can't help the chuckle that bubble past my dry throat.

"Sorry, sorry. I had a fever ever since we left the hospital…"

"Argh! Someone save me from foolish older brothers! I can't _believe_ you pulled this in your condition."

"Aw, come on, Anna, I didn't exactly have much choice!"

She frowns. "...I know." And then she's back against my chest, nuzzling into me despite how gross I must be covered in sweat. I shiver slightly, not minding the extra heat as my fever sends chills through my limbs.

"So can you tell me what's going on? How did you know about this place?"

Anna sits up and bites her lip, glancing back at the still looming proprietress behind her. The madame watches us, expression unreadable behind her cigarette. "Um...Han, this is Madame Christmas. She's a...friend of the family."

Madame Christmas snorts, as if 'friend' is a vast overstatement. I stare between the two women with wide eyes before settling on the older. "You know us?"

She smiles unkindly. "Of course I know you, or at least of you. You're the son and daughter of Diane, a previous girl of mine, and that sonofabitch Argus."

-o0o-

AN:

Yes, I went there. Confused? So is Han, the poor baby.

Thanks to everyone who's stuck around. I know I've been sporadic at best. Hey, if you're still around, please tell me what you think. I always love to hear from you guys:)

See you next time!


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